


HQ! Oneshots

by LazyPerfectionist



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyPerfectionist/pseuds/LazyPerfectionist
Summary: A collection of one-shots from my tumblr @daddyjima! I take requests on tumblr :)
Relationships: Ennoshita Chikara/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader, Utsui Takashi/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 193





	1. Hesitant - Ushijima x Reader

_Word Count:_ 3350 words (I can’t believe I wrote this much)

 _Summary:_ You find out why Ushijima has been a little hesistant about things getting too steamy between you. NSFW.

 _A/N:_ This is awkward af and quite cracky but hopefully in an endearing way.

* * *

Ushijima Wakatoshi was essentially perfect.

Just the right amount of unexpectedly charming and unintentionally hilarious, the man had a way of tugging at your heartstrings with even the most basic gestures. The way he reached for your hand instinctively when you met up with him after your college courses, the softening of his usual glower as he turned in your direction in response to your voice calling his name, or the short but sweet morning texts - all things that made your heart swell for him.

He was straightforward and most importantly, explicit with his actions from the very first moment you got involved. You never got the impression you were being strung along and despite how hyperaware you were about the ills of the current dating landscape, not once did you consider the possibility of getting ghosted or benched.

Weeks then months passed and you fell fast for him. You were in love.

In love with everything: his facial expressions, whether serious or smiling, his dedication to his craft, his warm, large hands, the timbre of his voice and the way it softened especially for you…

He was _perfect_.

But when your third month anniversary (not that you were keeping track, of course) came and passed and you had not yet had that kind of intimacy, you could no longer ignore the ache in your core he left you with after his lips parted from you minutes into a deep, passionate kiss…

Or worse - when he came from behind and held you tightly around the waist, the familiar but not-familiar-enough bulge between his legs pressing against your lower back and demanding your attention in a different way Toshi did.

In mere moments, every touch went from wanted and appreciated to craved and needed, and it began to _hurt_.

Why was he holding back?

“T-toshi?” You mumbled, interrupting your makeout session by pulling back from him as far as you could with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Mm…?” His eyes connected to yours then slid back down to your lips, wanting, waiting for you to continue. Was he actually listening? You weren’t quite sure, but his hold on your hips firmed, keeping you steadily settled in his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, making sure to keep you close, and you could feel his heartbeat, slightly quickened as he waited for you to speak.

You wished he would look at you when you asked this next question but instead you pressed your cheek to his.

“Do you find me attractive?”

Your voice came out somewhere between soft and assertive, and you could feel Ushijima tense ever so slightly before straightening his back so that he was looking straight at you. His hands didn’t move from where they rested on your side and he remained very still, as he did often when he was unsure of what to do next.

His face remained unreadable and the behavior didn’t reassure you.

“Well, do you?” You pressed, your voice smaller this time.

“Why do you think otherwise?”

His deep voice was almost as quiet as yours, and he sounded almost apologetic. You felt a small weight land in the pit of your stomach, embarrassed to have made the mood so awful. But you couldn’t help what you wanted. You could feel that familiar heat rising within the space between your legs, and your breathing was getting quicker and raspier, and his hands had been roaming… A large hand had slipped under your shirt, then under your brassiere to palm and caress a breast, and suddenly his tongue was down your throat, and you knew soon he would stop and you would be left to smile and bite your lip while he hastily made up an excuse to leave.

Was it you? Was it him?

Your arms slowly slid down from around Ushijima’s neck and dropped into your lap. A small frown crossed his face very briefly in response and he gently withdrew his hands from where they held you.

You sat quietly together for a moment as you attempted to formulate words to express how you felt. Horny? Yes. Desired? You weren’t sure, and that was the issue.

“Sometimes, I feel like…,” you trailed off, carefully scrutinizing Ushijima’s face for a reaction. He continued to watch you cautiously, and you grimaced before continuing. Confrontation wasn’t your strong point, but communication was a must.

“I feel like things escalate and then… stop.” You paused there, and he tilted his head slightly. You mentally scolded yourself, knowing very well that you weren’t doing a great job of making sense, but in that surprisingly intuitive way of his, he seemed to know exactly what you meant.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he said, slowly.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you repeated, warmth flooding your cheeks once again. “U-unless you’re not ready to, you know, have sex… I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to coerce you into doing something that you don’t want to do, I just-”

You were interrupted by Ushijima’s hands finding their way back onto your hips again, and then standing you up completely straight so that he could rise to his full height. Seeing him tower over you now suddenly, you swallowed hard once. He could be so intimidating without meaning to, even if he was unequivocally sweet with you.

He let out a wistful sigh and ran a hand through his hair with his eyes closed before refocusing his gaze back onto you - you who were now standing awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs as you waited for him to decide to either tell you he was interested in touching and kissing but not outright having sex with you (but maybe some day!) or to just walk out the door never to be seen again without even bothering with an explanation.

Instead, he suddenly pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, to your surprise.

“Wait, Toshi! Now?” You almost shrieked as he almost hastily undressed his lower half in the middle of your apartment without a single qualm. He was already unfastening his belt before he stopped to look at you - a good thing because your heart was now beating so fast in your chest, you were sure you were going to become lightheaded enough to pass out.

“We can if you want to. I’ve wanted to for a while now,” he replied, and to those simple words, your heart started to flutter and both elated and aroused you were again.

“The problem is, I was, and still am, a little worried that I might hurt you,” he started, and you wondered why he would be concerned about such a thing up until his pants dropped to his ankles, and your eyes grew wide as you realized what the limiting factor may have been. No wonder he had been avoiding sex for so long.

“I’m a bit large down there, it turns out.”

 _Large is an understatement_ , you thought, your eyes glued helplessly to the thing hanging between his legs. For the second time tonight, you swallowed hard - for once, you may have bitten off more than you could chew.

* * *

One very efficient store trip, a couple extra-large condoms, and a generous amount of lube later, you knelt across from Ushijima onto your large bed, your heart pounding again. Both of you were now stripped down to the bare flesh and while you wanted to drool over the sight of his bare chest and indulge in the feeling of his weight pressed against your body, you found yourself movement paralyzed, unsure of what to do next.

You had felt silly asking him to redress again so you could go out and buy supplies, but the truth was you needed time to come up with a game plan. Anyone who saw that monster cock for the first time would take a pause. Would you be able to take all of that? Could anyone take all of that?

“___, are you okay? You’re staring.”

You were trying to figure out if the condoms would fit him, then thanked the heavens that you were on the pill anyway if the condoms broke by any chance. When he waved his hand in your face, you were brought back into the reality of the here and now. You nodded, but the thinly veiled distress on your always expressive face was starting to remind him of the many locker room jokes and nicknames he’d endured once he’d reached the end of puberty.

 _Spear Ushijima_ was the first to come to mind and he grimaced, then rested back into a sitting position, cross-legged on the bed.

“We don’t have to do anything, I understand.” he said, flatly. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed it, concerned that he would look too upset. He smiled now instead to mask his disappointment and reached his arms out for you.

“We can cuddle. Oh, but if you would prefer that I put my clothes back on, I could do that too,” he said hurriedly, getting up to make his way off the bed, but you interrupted him by moving close and pressing a hand on his chest.

“Wait.”

And his surprised expression turned to another smile, more genuine this time, and he relaxed into your touch.

“___,” he whispered your name softly. You smiled, then keeping your eyes in fierce contact with his, you reached down to wrap your fingers around his considerable length. Even only semi-hard, the girth was impressive and you could feel the warmth shuttling in as he became aroused. His mouth parted just slightly in surprise.

“Are you sure?” His voice was already thick with lust.

“Yes,” you whispered, “but we’ll have to take it slow.” You added a smile to that last part and leaned forward to peck him on the lips once before you started to stroke him up and down his shaft.

He let out a soft moan and leaned back, watching you carefully as you worked your hand up and down his penis. You could tell he was trying very hard to keep still and let things run at your pace, and you relished in the opportunity fully.

“That… feels really good, ____,” he offered, his voice low and husky, and encouraged by his words, you added another hand, offering a few more pumps to his length before the piece de resistance to your lovely handjob, the application of your soft lips to his waiting cockhead.

He was already leaking a little precum, you could tell by the salt on your tongue as you licked at the slit at the tip of his member. He let out a low groan, and you could feel his muscles tense beneath you as he rose quickly.

“Y-you don’t have to if you don’t want-” he started, but you wouldn’t let him interrupt what you had going on.

“I want to, Toshi!” You exclaimed, almost indignantly, and as if to supplant that claim, you descended as far down his shaft as you could go in a fluid motion, but then to your misfortune, you must have triggered your gag reflex because you choked once then twice, and pulled yourself back to cough once more.

“Babe, are you okay?!”

Ushijima shot up like a board to hold you steady by the shoulders while you coughed, and as tears started to form in your eyes, you took one glance at his intense look of concern and you burst into laughter.

“Why are you laughing?”

You doubled over onto him, laughing even more against his chest, which only made him more concerned as he wrapped you in his arms.

“I told you this was dangerous and this is why I held myself back, ___.”

You pulled back once more, tears welling into your eyes as you finally said through snorts:

“Can you PLEASE stop acting like your dick is a lethal weapon?”

The look on Ushijima’s face was that of such extreme shock that you were pretty sure you would never stop laughing, that your fate was now to perpetually cackle until you died of asphyxiation. He frowned again, and you felt just a little bad but still the mixture of stress and confusion and awkwardness and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation rendered you unable to stop.

And finally he added, “It might be funny to you but I’ve never done this before.”

That sobered you up enough that you actually did cease chuckling, and with a final, unintentional chuckle, you faced him seriously this time, your faces only inches apart.

“Is it really your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Another silence hung in the air, maybe because it was hard for you to believe that no one had ever touched him in this way or maybe because despite the fact that he looked either mildly irritated or severely embarrassed, you could still feel his erection hard against your lower belly and you weren’t sure if that meant you should continue (and to be honest, you really wanted to) or that sex was off the table for the time being.

But his arms were still wrapped around you, and you could feel the thump of his heart against your chest, and you wanted him, and you believed he wanted you too, and suddenly it was silly that you had been so intimidated in the first place.

Again you were caught staring into his eyes, and you felt warm again - different layering types of warm.

“Do you want to continue?” The two of you asked, almost in unison. You could hear the hint of persuasion, the _please say yes_ in his voice.

You smiled, and pressed your lips to his again, and a hand went into your hair, pulling you deeper into the kiss, and a hand went around your waist, securing you firmly against his body. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your tongues danced together again, and when your hand found its way again around his member, he tensed for a moment, but then in a decision to ignore his reservations, broke your embrace to pepper kisses along your neck and into your bosom.

You moaned and arched your back, gripping his member just a little tighter, and he took the opportunity to circle his tongue around your nipple before taking the mound in your mouth.

Consumed in the feeling of him suckling you, you were unprepared for the thick fingers that found their way around and then onto your clit, rubbing gentle circles that sparked waves of pleasure through you. Another moan escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, and then he slid a finger inside you, pressing just hard enough and in just the right place that you jerked almost violently against him.

His finger slipped out almost as fast as it had gone in.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt good!” You reassured him. “P-please continue.”

He nodded, and replaced his finger, pressing more gingerly this time, using the slowing and deepening of your breaths to guide him. You occupied your mouth again with kisses along his collarbones, onto the expanse of his broad chest, pressing your breasts against him, rolling against him. His breaths also started to slow as he fell in rhythm with the way your hips moved, and when he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he flipped you over onto your back so that you lay beneath him.

A pause.

His olive eyes scanned you ravenously, and you could hear the hunger sealed within his breathy sighs, as he hovered over you. Your half-lidded eyes, your body warm and receptive and waiting for him, stating in every way possible that you wanted him - it was like a dream for him. He had wanted this for so long, to know what your insides would feel like around him, to know if he too, could make you scream his name in pleasure not pain, to do what his friends and teammates did with their partners, and now here you were, laid out for him like a whole meal.

“Are you ready?”

You didn’t look down at the warm, throbbing length resting on right on your pubic area, but instead at him, your gentle giant, and nodded.

“Yes.”

You closed your eyes and shivered ever so slightly at the sensation of lubricant being slathered right at the opening of your vagina. You could feel him repositioning himself right at your entrance, and trying to stay as relaxed as possible for him, you waited for him to enter you.

And he did, interlacing fingers with yours as he broke through your sopping entrance, feeling your hold tighten around his and hearing your breath hitch then relax as his cockhead made it through you.

Then he stopped so you could adjust to the stretch, and he rested on his elbows, trying to rub the wince out of your facial expression with a caress of the cheek.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Keep going.”

He pushed a little further and you uttered another low moan with the painful, yet pleasurable stretch, and he almost felt guilty for how good you felt around him, how desperately he wanted to fill you up all at once, how aroused he was by the sound of your whimper as you felt him.

“K-keep going,” you mewled as soon as he stopped to let you adjust, and he worried that he really would tear you apart this time, but you clung to his chest again and his desire to go as far into your guts as possible was too much for him to bear.

A groan and he was in almost to the hilt, and he wiped the tears forming in your eyes as you endured the searing pain, the pressure of him stretching you to your limit. The fact that he wasn’t moving was starting to become excruciating for you, and you began to squirm under his weight, indicating your wishes.

“Are you okay, my love?” He murmured carefully.

“Toshi, m-move, please…”

He obliged, withdrawing just a bit to crash back into you, and you cried out but not in pain, in a strangled cry of pleasure.

“Toshi!”

_Again!_

He could hear the cry for more in the way you said his name and the force with which you dug your nails into his back and again he obliged, thrusting into you again, and you could feel your head spin.

_Again!_

He settled into a rhythm and stroke after stroke you could feel yourself wind up, your cries and moans and grunts of pleasure loud and clear for him, for all to hear.

“Toshi- ah~!”

His pace quickened every time you called his name and his angle changed so that he was deep enough that it was almost uncomfortable ( _almost_ ), and he was now grunting, sweating, making sure to leave no part of you untouched. Your thighs clamped around his waist and you muffled your cries into the meat of his shoulder, clinging to him so tightly you thought you would meld into one.

Ushijima was moaning your name now, enthralled by the way your insides, your outsides clamped onto him, claimed his body for you, and he couldn’t believe he had been nervous about this part of the relationship, you had been perfect every other way…

Your coil snapped suddenly, and your orgasm rippled through you like electricity, and now he was muffling your moans with his tongue down your throat, fingers wrapped firmly around your jaw keeping you in place.

“You came?” He whispered in a gruff voice, now into the space between your breasts, his dick still throbbing and twitching within you. The thrum of yes vibrating through your body brought a grin to his face.

He rose up off your body again so he could look at your eyes, glazed over in a love-drunken haze, and finally, he was no longer concerned but confident - dare you say it, _cocky_ \- as he hovered above you.

“Let’s aim for at least twice tonight.”

A promise he kept.

The first time would be a time to remember, in more ways than one.


	2. After the Match - Ushijima x Reader

_**Summary:** _There’s an emotional cost to winning, always. _(1083 words)_

 ** _A/N:_** Have some soft angsty ushi content ; n;

* * *

Match point.

You hold your breath, your fingers tightening their grip on your kneecaps as you watch the ball sail in an arc into Ushijima’s reach. It feels as though time suspends for a moment as he flies into position to spike the ball - it is one of the very few moments where he looks light, even graceful - and then almost as quickly, time resumes as his hand connects.

And the crowd goes wild with cheers around you, and you find yourself screaming for him at courtside. Another win for your Wakatoshi, and your heart swells with excitement. 

You see him scan the courtside for you, and when your eyes connect you smile, hoping that he can see the sparkle in your eyes, that you’re proud of him as usual. 

_Good job, baby!_

You can’t wait to rush and congratulate him, but you quell your excitement as usual for the formalities of handshakes and bows to end before he can exit and accept you into his arms.

However, you notice the sweat in his brow, the hands resting onto his hips and the slight hunch in his shoulders… he’s breathing heavily, and from the way he rapidly gulps down electrolyte-enriched water, you can tell he’s exhausted in more ways than one.

And you’re not surprised. As usual, he was the one designated to carry the entire team. The greatest intrinsic and extrinsic pressures, the fewest opportunities for mistakes, being the last to be swapped out and the first to step up to the plate - that is what it means to be the Ace. 

You turn around quickly so he can’t see the slight fade in your smile. 

When you meet him outside of the stadium, he presses you close to him and you can taste the salt of his sweat on his lips. It’s funny to think that there was once a time, around when you had first met in college, that you’d teasingly insist he not even consider looking in your direction until he’d hit the showers. Now it was all you could muster to let go of him, as you saw so little of him ever since he’d gone professional. These moments of physical closeness were few and far between, especially when he was traveling, even if you now lived together in Poland.

“I’ll meet you at home soon, my love,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You nodded, and grinned cheerfully. “Great job today, Toshi!”

* * *

The ‘soon’ he had promised was this evening, just a day after the game. 

You had partially dozed off by the fireplace, a book in your lap, when you heard his keys in the door, and before you could unwrap yourself from the blanket around you, he had already made it into the living room.

“I’m home, ____.”

You shook your head to fully dispel sleep, and smiling, you reached out your arms for him, and he effortlessly carried you in his arms, adjusting your legs around his waist.

“Welcome back, Toshi,” you whispered your reply, nuzzling his neck. You stood together and connected for a moment, him rubbing your back softly. There was something about your relationship recently that had shifted and morphed, and whether or not it was for better or for worse, time would only tell. 

The fact that you seemed to speak less to each other and relied more on the language belying soft and sexual touches, glances, or small domestic actions was one such change that was noticeable and loud. Maybe it attested to the fact that you were starting to laugh less and worry more. Or maybe it was nothing - Ushijima wasn’t much of a talker anyway.

Maybe it was the fact that winter had announced itself since you’d been together in this space for now up to six months, and even though the engagement ring on your finger lent a promise of permanency to your relationship, his presence always seemed to be transient. It was colder more often in your home, and you missed his warmth even more.

Or just maybe, it was the fact that he always seemed to be more than just physically tired these days. Despite the fact that he was doing what he loved, it seemed that by the time he came back to you he was sluggish, and sometimes you wondered if he was expending the very last bit of energy he had to hold you like this.

He sat down in your chair, keeping you facing him as you sat on his lap, and letting out a soft sigh. His eyes closed as he leaned backwards, and his hands softly caressed yours.

“They work you too hard,” you muttered, pressing your head to his chest.

“I don’t work hard enough,” he replied instead, the low vibration running through his chest interrupting you as you tried to focus on his heartbeat.

You disagreed but you remained silent. You’d had one too many arguments about individual practices following team practices and concerns about self-induced injuries prematurely ending his career. Your problem was that he took everything too seriously; his problem was that you never took anything seriously enough.

Wasn’t this a sport? Wasn’t it meant to be fun? Was he still having fun?

“You looked incredible on the court yesterday,” you said. It was both true and what he wanted to hear, and his arms wrapped around you tighter, and you could almost feel the warmth of his smile from where your face still rested against his chest.

“Thank you for always cheering me on,” he replied, just as sincerely.

Something about those words made your heart quicken as his seemed to slow. You raised your head up to look at his facial expression, and saw the genuine smile and appreciation he had for you, accompanying him on this journey, loving him, supporting him. 

It stung.

But instead, you pressed your lips to his again and let yourself be consumed in an intense kiss, one that weaved its way into lovemaking, to an exclamation of togetherness that would be enduring. 

All you had was each other, and even though you were alone often and you were often left wondering, you would never wonder about your place in his heart.

“I love you,” you breathed into the air above you, cheeks flushed as you stared at the ceiling.

“I love you too,” he said beside you, pulling you into a spooning embrace. 

You prayed that this discomfort would be enough, your win condition.


	3. Someone Else's - Sakusa x Reader x Ennoshita

**_Summary:_** Ennoshita hasn’t completely moved on, but the love of his life has. NSFW. ( _~3.1k words)_

 ** _A/N:_** I’m so sorry to Ennoshita stans. 

* * *

“Thank you so much, Ennoshita-san!”

Ennoshita smiled warmly as he helped the elderly woman he was treating off the examination table. She wobbled ever so slightly as she got onto her feet, and gripped tensely onto his arm but Ennoshita held her steady, reassuring her that she had him. 

“Oh, you truly are such a kind young man. And my, it is truly a shame that you haven’t yet been snatched up!”

He let out a small pacifying laugh - this topic was frequent during their sessions, and as sweet as she was, the old lady had offered up everyone from her grandchildren to her nieces around his age, and he truly wasn’t in the mood to politely look at another stranger’s picture off her flip phone on this particular afternoon. 

Especially not when the first thing that had come to mind when awakening this morning was the woman who had broken his heart, someone he had actually planned to propose to just days before she broke up with him before disappearing without a trace.

“I’m too busy working hard in order to take care of patients like you to think about dating!” He joked as he helped lead her out to the exit. As he walked her down, he snuck a glance at the clock in the hallway, noting that he was a couple minutes late for his next patient. 

He let out a sigh internally. The young man to be seen next on his list was particularly impatient and wouldn’t be happy to wait even for a second. He hoped that by the time he made it back to the room, the technicians had at least turned the room over and taken his vitals.

By the time Ennoshita made it back to the room, he could see that the professional volleyball player he had been working with for the past month had already arrived, and was sitting in the corner of the room with legs crossed and fingertips pressed together.

“Good afternoon, Sakusa-san,” Ennoshita greeted formally.

Sakusa Kiyoomi did not answer immediately, peering up at him with dark eyes over a white surgical mask. He then gave a brief nod and stood up, pulling off his jacket and draping it neatly over the back of the chair, before sitting on the examination table.

He now looked at Ennoshita expectantly. Ennoshita kept his face kind as usual - even though Sakusa did grate on his nerves just a little, doing his best to sympathize with his cold behavior. Patellar tendon injuries were common in volleyball players but they were also incredibly frustrating, and Ennoshita, having played volleyball himself back in high school, knew something or another about frustration. Plus Sakusa was known for being more than a little abrasive at baseline, at least based on what his old high school teammates had told him.

“Did you do the exercises?”

“Mm.” At least Sakusa was willing to follow instructions. 

The session went smoothly as usual, and because Sakusa made little effort to engage in conversation, Ennoshita found his mind wandering briefly intermittently.

 _It’s hard to believe that you were once part of the team that beat Shiratorizawa that year_ , Sakusa had told him flippantly the first day they’d met. Of course, he thought that; aside from the old ladies he worked with, Ennoshita wasn’t particularly outstanding and he was painfully aware of that fact. 

Even _she_ had told him this right before he and his last girlfriend had broken up. She had been so harsh then, but even he recognized it was true. He was a safe choice, someone you don’t hesitate to present to mom and dad but don’t also brag about to your friends, someone who was dependable but you could never be desperate to be with. He had worked on that over the past year, attempting to be more outgoing, picking up a few hobbies that would make him “interesting” like mixed martial arts and salsa dancing. 

Maybe he’d impress her if they ever met again.

But for now, his life was pretty routine, unlike guys like even Sakusa before him who commanded attention (whether unwillingly or not) whenever they entered a room and were still entrenched in the fast-pace and exciting world of volleyball. 

“We’re done here, right?” Sakusa said, abruptly. 

Ennoshita looked at the time, and noted that the thirty minutes were almost up. “Yeah, let me go get the sheet for your next set of exercises,” he said, turning around to go through a set of folders on a shelf. 

While he rummaged, behind him, there was a brief knock on the door right before the door swung open and soft, light footsteps ran in.

“Omi, we’re going to be late!”

“I told you to wait outside, stop being so clingy,” he snapped back.

And Ennoshita turned around so fast he almost got whiplash - he could recognize that voice, your voice anywhere - and stared right at you, your arms affectionately wrapped around Sakusa’s shoulders while he was trying to shake you off with irritation.

You froze, the smile on your face fading, replaced with your mouth opening just slightly in shock. Ennoshita froze, the packet of exercises he was prepared to hand Sakusa slipping out of his fingers as he stood still, falling to the ground in a loud flutter.

“Chi-kun,” you whispered under your breath, your eyes wide and your heart thumping in your chest.

“___…”

You inhaled sharply, and reflexively your arms withdrew from where they rested around Sakusa’s neck, and while Sakusa had made a big deal of resisting your affection, the fact that you stopped so quickly at the sight of another man awakened a different type of discontentment in him.

“Why…” Ennoshita started, but the rest of his sentence died in his throat. Why were you here? Why were you with him? Why did you leave?

Why now?

“I… um… fuck,” you started, then stopped, shame now washing over you as you remembered how cruel you were before and how cruel you were being this very moment. You had no explanation for the fact that you had refused to answer his calls or texts, and barely offered him any type of closure aside from _You’re frankly kind of boring_ , and _I’m not sure I want to be with you anymore_. 

And to see each other again, right in front of your boyfriend who was quite… particular? This wouldn’t end well. 

You found yourself rushing to leave the room, but suddenly Sakusa’s hand clamped around your wrist as you turned and he pulled hard, almost yanking you back to his side.

“Where are you going, babe?” He asked with a smirk, not looking at you but instead directly at Ennoshita who had in mere moments turned from unwitting ally to absolute enemy. He seemed to shake like paper, and Sakusa could almost read the unwritten history between you all written all over his face, and it made him angry. Maybe even furious.

Had his precious little girl also fucked this guy? Really?

Clearly so, because you never resisted his touch usually, in fact you craved it, and now you were all but worming your way out of his grasp which he kept like iron, obvious panic in your eyes as you pleaded for him to let you leave the room.

“L-let me talk to you in the car,” you half-whispered, half-begged.

“About what?” Sakusa replied coolly, his voice much louder than needed to be. 

The way you looked now to Ennoshita was like a trapped mouse and he could no longer bear it. Why couldn’t Sakusa be gentle with you? Didn’t he know you liked to be treated softly and with care? He had always treated you like you were gold, after all. 

Were you the girlfriend Sakusa complained about every so often? The one who was very sweet but overbearing? The only reason why he showed up to this place session after session after all instead of bearing the discomfort and heading back to the courts as soon as possible?

“P-please let go of her,” Ennoshita eked out in a small voice, keeping his gaze down. “It’s just that s-she and I knew each other from before and… it must be very awkward-”

Sakusa suddenly cut in with a laugh.

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t ask.”

Ennoshita looked up with shock mirroring your own as you both watched him in surprise. Sakusa let go of your wrist, and you subconsciously rubbed the sting out of the tender skin. He walked across the room, stopping right before Ennoshita who again tensed reflexively, and bent down to pick up the dropped packet.

“This was mine, right?” He confirmed as he rose to his full height, his smile again dark as he looked down towards Ennoshita. Ennoshita nodded slowly, and you could almost hear him swallow hard.

“I’ll just take what’s mine and leave then,” he said, now moving past Ennoshita to grab his jacket. Reaching into his pocket, he replaced his face mask then walking towards you, pulled out a second one to hand to you before gripping your hand firmly again.

“Thanks for all of your help!” His voice stunk of mock cheer. For you, he unwrapped the individually wrapped face mask and dangled it before you by the tips of his fingers.

“I told you to wear these, at least when you’re in the hospital. These people are disgusting.”

And with that, Sakusa walked out hand in hand with you, the love of Ennoshita’s life.

* * *

“Why did you do that, Kiyoomi?”

You had spent most of the ride back to Kiyoomi’s apartment in silence, but you knew by how tightly Sakusa was gripping the steering wheel and the furrow in his eyebrow that he was probably scowling underneath his face mask the entire time. Any other time you would have reached for his free hand, and maybe he would have scowled about the unnecessary physical contact and asked you if you had sanitized your hands first before begrudgingly accepting your touch, but you would have smiled anyway and gently stroked the palm of your weird, grumpy Omi.

Any other time. But right this very moment, he deserved the opposite of compassion.

Sakusa gave you a very brief, aggravated look, then turned back to the road before him. He scoffed, noticing your pursed lips and the crossed arms over your chest. You were practically as angry as he was, stewing quietly in the passenger seat.

How dare you.

“Oh, did I hurt your ex’s feelings? Is that why you’re upset?”

“Omi…,” you said in a small, yet stern voice.

“Don’t ‘Omi~’ me. He looked at you like you fell out of the sky. Like you were an angel from above. Not like the dirty slut you are-”

“Kiyoomi!” 

He scoffed, gripping the steering wheel even tighter with both hands now.

“Don’t act like you don’t beg me to call you that when you’re bent over and I’m balls deep inside your guts. What’s the difference right now? Aren’t you always my dirty slut? Do you want me to respect you now? Is that what he did? Give you respect? Who the fuck does he think he is?”

The blood was starting to rush to your face and you wanted to scream at him for being an asshole as usual, but you could tell he was only getting more riled up by the second. You bit your lip and held your tongue, ready to unleash the moment he parked. 

But before you could say a single word the second he turned off the ignition, now that you were in the quiet, covered lot outside of his apartment complex, he reached across to your side of the car, all but ripping off the mask on your face (and his). Jerking your chin to his with the tips of his fingers, he smashed your lips to his in a kiss that was so intense, you were sure it contained most if not all the violence he had held back just minutes earlier.

Minutes that felt like seconds passed as his tongue forced itself down your throat and teeth grazed against lips and you lost the ability to breathe and to think and _you were mad on whose behalf_? 

All that mattered was that you got more from Omi, you wanted more from your Omi, and now you had traversed the car’s console to straddle your Omi in the driver’s seat and you were now grinding against him, and he was now pulling away -

Oh, _why_ was he pulling away?

Breathy pants now parted your swollen, red, wanting lips and your half-lidded eyes took in the lustful eyes staring at your lips and the half-smirk now on his visage, the one that made it obvious that he knew he had already won you over and you were absolutely powerless to him, that you were his.

You paused, your arms draped around his neck, waiting, knowing that if you didn’t stop now to start up again, once you were inside, you’d fuck in the car in this dim garage and who knows who would see you?

**_“Since I didn’t get to beat his ass, I’m beating your pussy up instead.”_ **

* * *

You had really moved on.

Now that Ennoshita had seen you in the flesh for the first time in nearly a year, he realized how much he had been holding on to the possibility of ever seeing you again, in a future where he was something other than the boring and safe choice, someone you tolerated but your heart didn’t tremble for.

And to see you with one of Japan’s top aces… Someone who had been better than him for you before you even knew of his existence. It was unbearable to think about.

He continued to stare at the ceiling dejectedly. He’d been crying literally the entire way home from work, and now on top of being sad for the love that never was, he was doubly upset for how freely his tears flowed tonight. The fact that he couldn’t even stand his ground when threatened, that he had even flinched when Sakusa got close (Was he this much of a bitch? Did you see him? No wonder you dropped him.).

He let out a cough as phlegm stuck in his throat and rubbed his eyelids. He had been laying sprawled on his back ever since he came back from work, staring at the ceiling and he was pretty sure his eyes were puffy and red.

Pitiful.

He reached for his phone and considered making a profile on Tinder, his finger hovering over the program in the app store. That would have been the right move. Move on like you had.

Instead he pulled up his photo folders, and settled on his favorite picture of you. One where you were alone and smiling for him, your face tilted just so towards the camera, and happiness crinkling your eyes. He always loved your eyes.

Reaching over his end table for the lone bottle of lotion, he pulled down his underwear with the other hand, freeing his semi-hard cock. Maybe… just maybe if he could think of you as you were when you were his, like in this picture; if he could ignore the fresh memory of you looking at him with regret in your eyes, he could feel you again with him.

* * *

“O-Omi… Omi! Oh my… fuck, Omi!!”

You reflexively pushed at his face as you squirmed, then trembled then flailed wildly as Sakusa slurped the absolute life out of you, tongue circling and swishing and flicking everywhere from your clit to your vestibule to inside your vagina… In fact, at some point, you were sure he’d bit ever so slightly at your labia and you let out a yelp, only for him to stuff you quiet with two of his fingers, already sopping wet with the juices dripping out of your soaking cunt.

“Suck if you can’t keep your filthy mouth shut,” he scoffed.

You moaned through the taste of his fingers, the taste of yourself. Sakusa had a way of being even meaner in bed that lit a fire inside you; the abrasiveness only seemed to get worse the more horny he got. And yet, you knew right now he was so aggressive because of the mere fact that he loved you and his pride had been shaken just thinking that someone else had once claimed you as theirs. The very fact that, germaphobe as he was, he was so deep in your thighs that parts of his skin shone with your slick was already proof of that.

“You’re moving too much,” he said sternly, his grip tightening around your thighs. You muffled an apology through a full mouth, only to be attacked with a long stroke of the tongue on your core which sent a shockwave through you and had you at a loss for words.

“Is this how you moaned for him?” Sakusa stopped suddenly, his breathy words sending a shiver of cold through your spine as they landed on your moist cunt.

You shook your head frantically.

“Good,” he said as though it were business as usual, rising to drop his pants and let his cock spring free. Even his cock looked angry, tumescent, dusky at the head and at attention, and you could feel your core ache in anticipation already. 

He flipped you like a pancake on the bed, hooking one arm around your midsection (you were already too fucked out just from his fingers and mouth to move yourself unfortunately), and positioned you into a tripod position before lining himself behind your already semi-abused entrance.

“Stay still. I’m going to fuck you like every man you’ve ever had is slamming you all at once, you dirty, dirty girl.”

* * *

In the dim light of Ennoshita’s bedroom, all that could be heard were soft sobs and the sound of flesh stroking flesh, and soon there were cries of your name and the sobs grew louder and more pained until release which came out as a deep, guttural, desperate groan. He was aching for someone who no longer existed. A you from the past that no longer existed.

The you of the present moaned, sobbed, and convulsed, screaming _Kiyoomi_ s, _Omi_ s, _Oh my_ s, _Oh God_ s, _I love you_ s, _Don’t stop_ s _, Never stop_ s to Sakusa who pounded you relentlessly, slapping every inch of skin on your buttcheek, marking every part of your body with kisses, bites, pulling your hair, closing his fingers around your throat - doing anything and everything that Ennoshita could no longer do. He touched you in ways your ex never could, rough, then eventually soft the moment he finally, eventually, and to your relief, came inside you, coating your clenching walls with hot cum coming out in so many spurts. He unseated himself, and you could feel some volume of him spilling out of you immediately - he had come so much, probably more than he ever had before, and you expected him to immediately disappear to shower, but maybe there was something about his jealousy that made him both harsh and gentle for you today. 

He whispered your name as he lay beside you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He pulled you closer, and your pleasantly exhausted, sweaty, sticky face found its way into the crook of his neck. Your breathing evened, the room was now quiet, but the very air was loaded with the transient echoes of your sinful dance just moments ago.

“I love you.”

Your heart sped up. It was so hard for Sakusa to say something so frank, so honest and so vulnerable, but before you could say you loved him too - oh you knew, you were sure you did - he kept going, and with this he held you tighter:

“I don’t ever want to look at you like I lost everything. No matter what I say, no matter what I do, promise you’ll always love me, and you’ll always be my side. I will do my best to be good to you.”

And that’s when you realized that Sakusa’s greatest fear was Ennoshita’s reality.


	4. Birthday Boy - Kuroo x Reader

**Summary:** Office man Kuroo wants the usual for his birthday. (~1.4k words)

 ** _Warnings:_** nsfw, fem!reader, public sex, office relationships

 ** _A/N:_** Kuroo annoys me but I can see the appeal. Happy birthday Kuroo!

* * *

You typed the last sentence of your business proposal for Friday, taking an extra bit of satisfaction in typing the last period before hitting the save button, then took a deep breath before leaning back in your chair. With one additional thing checked off your list for today, you made a quick check at the clock next to you to check how much longer you had until you could leave this place and move on with your life.

20 minutes left. You could do this.

“Didn’t you forget something today?”

Almost a bit startled, you looked up to see the company’s vice president, Tetsuro Kuroo, grinning down at you slyly, chin perched over the edge of the cubicle. You hated that he was tall enough to do that despite the fact that the cubicle walls were higher than typical - it felt like he had special access to you somehow.

You smiled politely, even though you and he both knew you couldn’t exactly stand him - in fact, you had made it pretty clear a couple months ago that you thought he was somewhat of a prick in the corner of an office party, and miraculously had kept your job (sleepless nights were finally behind you and you would never get so drunk at a company event again).

“Whatever do you mean, Mr. Tetsuro?” You said with mock extreme professionalism, as you printed out your proposal and rose to get to the noisy printer located outside of your small office space.

He leaned against the wall, smiling at you as you passed him.

“It’s my birthday, of course,” he said, now following you leisurely into the copy room, and you could feel the hairs on your neck stand on end as he stepped just outside of sexual harassment distance. “Where’s my present?”

You pulled your stack of papers out of the printer, shrugging off the irritation building inside you and went to focus on stapling copies of your day’s work together.

“Happy birthday,” you offered passively.

He stood beside you, grabbing another stapler to help you with your task uninvited.

“Why thank you, Ms. ___. I was waiting to hear good wishes from you. It was all I waited for all day, in fact,” he said, with a furtive glance at you that you pretended not to see.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need help,” you insisted. Before you could reach over, he nudged you playfully with his hip, blocking you out of his way. 

“You never need anything, Mrs. Independent,” Kuroo teased with a laugh, “but don’t worry, I got you.”

Before you could protest and snatch the sheets of his hand, he raised the sheets of paper higher than you could reach, forcing you to have to jump once or twice, stopping only once you were in a flustered mess, embarrassed by the fact that you were actually jumping in a pair of heels and a skirt in public.

“You are so fucking annoying! Do you know that?” You huffed finally in frustration, now standing completely still despite seething with annoyance. “Just go home, don’t you have someone new on your “hit and quit” list anyway?!”

Before the words left your mouth, you regretted them ever coming out and you whispered a short “Shit” under your breath as Kuroo’s eyes grew wide and devilish. You’d triggered him in just the right and wrong way. You glanced quickly at the door to ensure no one was outside to see what had just happened and what was about to happen, then considered making a quick run for it because _yes,_ you had just given this sexy asshole ammunition and _yes_ , he was absolutely going to lose it.

As expected, Kuroo blocked your way out of the room with quick side steps to the left and to the right, making your heart start to pound in your chest, and finally after a quick look outside as well to clear the surroundings, he held you close in his arms.

“Oh, it looks like someone’s been a bit jealous…,” he crooned, rocking you back and forth softly first before as he released you and backed into the open door, quickly and smoothly locking the door behind him. “So jealous, you won’t even wish me a happy birthday, my little bunny?”

_Fuck._

“Kuroo, don’t,” you whispered under your breath, but he was already walking towards you, eagerly loosening his tie, and by all that was good, you were going to let him do whatever he wanted even if it was against your better judgement.

He started by backing you into the wall by the copy-printer, planting a soft kiss on your lips, then pecking down your jawline to your bosom, his hands steadying themselves on your hips hugged by the classic but quite form-fitting pencil skirt you had decided on wearing that morning.

“Don’t what?” He breathed into the crook of your neck, as slender fingers started to unbutton your blouse, giving him access to the soft pillows of your breasts and pert nipples.

“W-we’re in public… not… not here.” You were already starting to forget your protests as his lips closed around a mound sending heat rushing to your center.

“It seems like you need reassurance,” he reasoned. “Let’s think of it as a sort of quality assurance project, what do you think?”

With that, more fingers made their way down the hem of your skirt, pulling then dragging them down so that he could press a digit right through to your pussy now damp and soaking your undies. 

“I don’t know why you keep wearing these tight ass skirts in the office, how the fuck are we supposed to get a quick fix during work breaks?”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” you retorted, pushing him off of you as you struggled to shimmy the skirt off quickly yourself.

“I mean, you’re really bad at playing this pretend game. Like my dad owns this company, why do you think it would be a problem if everyone else found out we were fucking?” Kuroo added, as he unbuckled his pants and rolled down his dress pants for you. You took a look at his large member as it popped out from the waistband of his pants, but when you saw his smirk at your hungry expression, you rolled your eyes before bending over the printer for him. 

“You talk so fucking much, Kuroo.”

“Wow! Cursing at me? On my birthday?” He protested with mock offense, but instead retaliated with getting a hard grip on your hair with one hand to pull you back towards him.

“Kuroo!”

“You’re lucky I’m not asking for a full hour of head, bunny!” He quipped, before breaching your entrance in one fluid movement. “Oh my goodness, it really is my lucky day, you really are just dripping for me.”

At this point, you should have been wondering what exactly had gotten you involved with this obnoxious man, but when he started a quick pace, thrusting you forward back and forth while you steadied yourself on the poor abused office printer, your tsundere act started to crumble. 

As he expected.

The room filled with the sloppy noises of cock entering cunt, over and over and over again, soft whines, suppressed grunts and moans, and the whir of buttons inadvertently being pressed. Despite Kuroo’s abrasive behavior towards you in the office, he could manage to be tender when he railed you, offering a soft hand to cover your mouth as you struggled to keep quiet and loosening his grip on your hair in favor of running his hand through it tenderly. 

As your walls continued to clench and tighten around him, milking him of all he was worth, his moans started to get more uneven, and he breathed deeply before laughing softly, leaning in you.

“You’re awfully quiet, babe,” he teased, his voice more tender this time.

 _So are you,_ you wanted to say, but then your coil snapped, and sensing this, his hand clamped tighter over your mouth as he pounded you even harder and you wanted to scream.

_Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo…_

Your orgasm was freefall, and soon he fell with you holding you all the while, his hand still clamped over your mouth and his other hand now pressing against you to hold your convulsing body still, you always came so violently when you were with him, so much a firecracker you were.

When the high finally faded, you both redressed in satisfied silence, staring at each other with renewed longing, only to be startled by hard raps on the door. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at each other then at the door.

Had you finally been too loud?

“There’s cake for whoever’s in there for VP’s birthday,” you could hear one of your coworkers finally say with exasperation. “I don’t know why you always use that room for so long, you can work in your cubicle, ___.”

Kuroo stifled a laugh as haughty footsteps headed away from the door, before kissing you on the forehead.

_**“Do you wanna get some of VP’s birthday cake or have you already had enough of VP?”** _


	5. Bury the Dead, then Other Things - Matsukawa x Reader

_**Summary:**_ You figure out what Matsukawa does for a living and you’re more than a little intrigued by his day, er, night job. (~1.4k words)

 ** _Warnings:_** nsfw, fem!reader, dead bodies, lack of respect for the dead

 ** _A/N:_** I hope the characterization of Mattsun isn’t off, I need to do a second watch ~~(or watch season 4 lmfaooo)~~

* * *

When Matsukawa revealed to you that he worked at a funeral home, over heavily-dressed pasta, glasses of red and white wine, and freshly-baked rosemary bread, you briefly considered that it was an odd choice for such a laid back young guy as him. However, you didn’t dwell on the thought, choosing instead to enjoy your first of many dates. He had brushed past it himself after all, focusing instead on bites of food and asking you about yourself, joking and teasing you throughout the meal.

It didn’t take very long before he had charmed you into going steady, and you quickly noticed Matsukawa was a lot busier than you expected, often working very late into the night, making it hard for you to plan dates.

You weren’t exactly sure what he did exactly at the funeral home and in the couple of months you had been dating, it hadn’t crossed your mind to clarify.

Until tonight.

**_Matsu, it’s almost 11pm? What burials happen this late?_ **

You bit your lip as you sent the text, wondering if your text sounded too accusatory or too needy, but you hadn’t seen him in a week and the fact of the matter was that you were particularly horny this night, for whatever reason… Maybe it was because things had gotten a little bit too hectic at work or maybe because the days were getting shorter while the nights were getting colder, but all you could think of was how warm your insides would feel stretched out by your boyfriend’s monstrosity of a cock. You could feel yourself just drooling thinking about it, and you hugged your legs as you curled up on the couch waiting for his response. You would give him an hour, and then maybe you’d have to resort to Ol’ Reliables, your Rabbit and a vivid imagination.

He replied within 15 minutes.

**_I’m embalming, babe. I’ve got one last body to take care of._ **

_Oh, that explained it._

A chill ran through your spine as you conjured up the image of your large boyfriend standing alone in a room filled with the not-so-recently departed, and then you started to think of how much you missed your boyfriend and maybe your wires crossed inappropriately, but a morbid curiosity overtook you and you texted back immediately.

**_Can I come see?_ **

* * *

You weren’t exactly sure what you’d expected. Maybe for him to say no but promise you that he’d come over right after?

Instead he gave you the address to his workplace, and you could almost see him shrugging his shoulders through the text message. He’d told you to be careful, and to make sure that you texted him the moment you arrived so he could come get you, but other than that he had no qualms about you seeing him work intimately with dead bodies.

So here you were, watching carefully, covering your eyes ever so slightly as he worked carefully on a corpse he was preparing, humming softly as you peered over his shoulder.

You winced as needles pierced long-expired flesh, sewing the lower jaw together and small lacerations of flesh, but your body relaxed into a strange comfort as you watched him carefully orient the dead person’s mouth into an almost smiling, peaceful expression and massage the person’s limbs into a pliable state. By the time Matsukawa was done shaving, hairstyling and dressing the body, it looked like the old man was merely resting, and you could almost believe it if not for the heavy stench of formaldehyde permeating the air through your face masks.

He turned to you on his stool, hands folded in his lap to prevent himself from touching you, and smirked as though he were waiting for you to compliment him on his work.

You don’t know what suddenly came over you, but your heart swelled and your lips crashed onto his.

Startled but ready to catch you, Matsukawa snapped off his gloves and pulled you onto his lap in a straddling position, now kissing you with just as much fervor, his tongue invading your mouth much unlike the deference he had to the dead. His hands hesitantly cupped your face, not wanting to spoil your pretty skin with any traces of embalming chemicals, but you were _oh so beautiful_ and _of course_ he had to touch your beautiful face. He pulled back just for a moment to admire you once more, an ever so slight smirk on his face.

“Are we going to do this here?”

Your breath was heavy and your eyes still focused on his, and just the way you looked at him like a cute little animal in heat had him instantly hard, not unlike the stiffness he had just spent so much time softening just moments earlier.

You nodded, a “yes, please,” airily slipping your throat, and he took your chin in his hands and engulfed you in a kiss once more.

Fluidly, you pulled both of your shirts off, and for a brief moment Matsukawa considered the indecency of shoving his cock inside of you right next to recently departed, but how could he deny you when you whined his name like this?

“M-matsu…”

“No need to be hasty, little one,” he softly replied, raising you off of him just enough that you could pull down his pants and unleash him - you had some teamwork between you already - before setting you back down.

But first-

“L-let me suck,” you murmured, quickly hesitating when you remembered exactly how _big_ he was, and before he could stop you and tell you the floor was dirty, you were on your knees, your lips were wrapped around the head of his cock and he was enraptured with the way you worked up and down his shaft, saliva lubricating every inch of skin. And yes, now he was groaning with his eyes closed, fingers tangled in your locks as he accepted this sloppy blowjob right next to a prepared body.

The old man would probably commend him.

His fingers again played with your hair as he reveled in the sound of you taking him in so completely, you were so good to him, _how blessed he was to have someone love him so dearly_.

You remained like this for minutes and soon, Matsukawa pulled you up to your feet again, deciding that he would take care of you too, pulling your panties off for you to get bare and ready for him.

“You’re gonna take my cock, aren’t you, pretty baby?” He whispered directly into your ear, strong fingers gripping your sides. “All of it?”

“Y-yes…”

“Every inch?”

“Every inch,” you promised, and he smiled again, slipping a finger, then two inside you, getting you nice and wet and prepared for him to enter you.

“M-matsu-”

“You’re so tight and wet, how are you gonna fit me in, little baby?” He whispered, tut-tutting. “Mm, how?”

His fingers pumped in and out faster, making you shudder and lean into him, losing your ability to stand.

“Isn’t she so silly, ojisan?”

_Was he really talking to the dead body?_

But his fingers worked faster and faster and you could feel your breaths get more labored as you struggled to stay steady on your feet.

“P-please let me…”

“You wanna take me now?” Matsukawa whispered, fingers now curling to find that spot that made your insides quiver. When you let out a cry, he shushed you.

“Shhh… this is a place of rest. Come sit on me, darling.”

He positioned you onto him now and as he entered you, the sear you felt with the stretch was incredible despite being soaking wet, but he muffled your _i can’ts_ , and _it’s too much_ , with his own mouth onto yours.

“See, you can do it anytime, anywhere,” he whispered, holding you tight as you shuddered and squirmed on his cock while adjusting, taking a moment to lick the warm tears now streaming down your face.

“M-move, please,” you prompted him, burying yourself in his broad chest. 

“Mm,” he grunted in acceptance before holding you onto your sides again to raise you slightly before slamming you back down, bouncing you up and down his shaft as he planted his feet firmly onto the ground to prevent you both from falling off the stool.

A delicate game it was to pleasure you so fully, putting on a show besides the resting old man where you cried and he grunted and you moaned and you both agreed that this wasn’t enough and now you were standing, legs wrapped around his midsection and rolling your hips as he rutted into you.

“So dirty, you couldn’t even wait,” he teased. “No respect for the dead.”

“B-but I don’t work here, Matsu-kun, you do,” you quipped between bounces, earning a firmer, almost painful grip on your buttcheeks. He smirked.

**_“Say more and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll need my services.”_ **


	6. Baby, It's Cold Outside - Oikawa x Reader

_**Summary:**_ You may have fallen for Oikawa on the first date. (~1.1k words)

 _ **Warnings:** _sfw but with suggestion of sex, gender neutral reader, fluff

 ** _A/N:_** I was in my u wu feelings and was listening to a Christmas playlist so here lmfao

Song: [Baby, It’s Cold Outside - Idina Menzel & Michael Bublé](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DIJpeLGzJBGo%26ab_channel%3DIdinaMenzel-Topic&t=OGM0ZDYyYjIxOWQxYjIwOWM3MTVmNTE2MmU3MzgxYjhjYWYyMWEyYyxzTEJCbDlZZw%3D%3D&b=t%3ABQKs-yEil23gi3WAgV7w2w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fdaddyjima.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F635437245951852544%2Fbaby-its-cold-outside-oikawa-x-reader&m=1&ts=1606451426)

* * *

**_I really can’t stay_ **

_Baby, it’s cold outside_

**_I’ve got to go away_ **

_Baby, it’s cold outside_

**_This evening has been_ **

_Been hoping that you’d drop in_

**_So very nice_ **

_I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice._

_–_

Your fingers always froze in the winter, right side worse than left, but this evening the chill was tempered by the warmth of Oikawa’s hand holding yours.

Dinner had been surprisingly nice. You had been wary about Oikawa’s intentions from the very beginning, wondering why a notorious playboy would be interested in someone like you over so many others that were either more stunning, more entertaining or at the very least, more receptive than you, but as the date progressed you had found yourself opening up to him.

You wondered if you could account the quickened pace of your heart and the acute awareness of the blood circulating through your arms and legs to the turns you had made around the ice skating rink together, but you knew this excitement was the fact that you were still beside him, wondering whether or not to part.

The two of you stood together in a pregnant silence, waiting for the cab that would take you back to your university’s dorms, while he returned instead to his off-campus apartment. It was excessively apparent from the lack of words between you two despite the animated conversation and laughter just minutes earlier that neither of you wanted to part ways for the night.

But who would speak first? The wolf who obviously just wanted to get you into bed? Or would _you_ offer up your own body as a platter?

You glanced up at Oikawa for a moment to find that his brown eyes had already been softly resting on you.

“D-do you want to come over?” The two of you whispered to each other in unison.

–

**_The neighbors might think_ **

_Baby, it’s bad out there_

**_Say, was that a wink?_ **

_No cabs to be had out there_

**_I wish I knew how_ **

_Your eyes are like starlight now_

_**To break this spell** _

_–_

“You want to come over?”

Oikawa’s characteristic half-smirk settled on his face, and reflexively you let go of his hand, embarrassed that you had shown evidence of falling for his charm. Intimidated by the mischief you could read in his expression, you backtracked. 

“Actually, it’s a bad idea,” you replied quickly, now clicking open your phone again to check the time. “I have a final in a couple of days and this was already too much of a break.”

“What’s a couple more hours?” Oikawa said now, leaning in to you. He checked his own phone to check the status of your ride. “I don’t mind canceling - your ride won’t be here for another ten minutes anyway so it’s not too out of his way.”

You pursed your lips, hesitantly, and he added:

“Please.”

–

**_I ought to get home for dinner_ **

_Mind if I move in closer?_

**_So it’s time for me to cast you aside_ **

_What’s the sense in hurting my pride?_

_–_

“I can’t, my roommates are waiting for me to study,” you insisted, the warmth now settling on your cheeks as Oikawa pivoted from your side so that he was standing in front of you.

You expected this - of course he had a lot of practice with sudden, purposeful movements like this - but it still startled you when he held both of your hands, urging you to look up at him. 

Despite the fact that you had resisted his attention up until today, you couldn’t deny that in the cold, when backlit by scintillating city lights and when looking at you with a measured but obvious affection, he was almost dazzling.

“___, you had fun today, didn’t you? Let’s not end it here for tonight.”

–

**_You’re very pushy, you know_ **

_I’d like to think of it as opportunistic_

_–_

“I won’t sleep with you,” was the first thing you asserted the moment you arrived at his apartment. Oikawa paused for a moment, his hand pausing as he turned the doorknob and he looked at you. For a split second, he looked as though he had been hit, but another smile spread across his face.

“Am I really that type of man to you, ____?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly. He paused again as he opened the door and let it swing open.

“___, I promise I only have the utmost respect for you.”

–

**_I simply must go_ **

_Baby, it’s cold outside_

_**So thanks for the show** _

_But, baby, it’s cold outside_

_**The welcome has been** _

_How lucky that you dropped in_

_**So nice and warm** _

_–_

Outside was a flurry of powdery snow, accented by the wintry whistle of the January wind, but inside you were warm and cozy in Oikawa’s arms. His lips tasted of hot chocolate and espresso, reminiscent of the eyes that beheld you with enchantment, and you continued to drink deeply of him with soft kisses. You weren’t sure when your intimacy began but you knew in your heart of hearts that you had made the first move. 

Could you blame yourself?

The two of you indulged in each other moments, and moments more, but as hands began to travel south and breaths got heavier and longer and drawn out, you knew things were getting carried away.

Yet before you could reel yourself back, Oikawa pulled back from you first, scrambling off the couch.

“I’ll take you home.”

His voice was a soft mumble, and you could still see lingering desire in his eyes, but he readjusted his clothing and went to the door to get your coat, leaving your heart full and wanting. 

“Tooru,” you uttered as you rose slowly from the couch to watch him.

He smiled, as he brought your coat over and an extra scarf, not unlike the one he wore himself during your date. Wrapping the article around your neck, he smiled, and pecked you softly on the forehead.

“It’s very cold outside, ___. You can return the scarf anytime.”

–

**_You’ve really been grand_ **

_I thrill when I touch your hand_

**_But don’t you see?_ **

_How can you do this thing to me?_

**_There’s bound to be talk tomorrow._ **

_Think of my life-long sorrow_

**_At least there will be plenty implied_ **

_If you got pneumonia and died._

_–_

**_I want to see you again, if that’s alright with you._ **

Now home, curled up in your own bed with a mug of hot chocolate that tasted like Oikawa’s kisses, you read his text to you and promptly texted back.

**_I can’t wait to see you again._ **


	7. Lesson - Atsumu x Reader

**_Summary:_** You drop Atsumu for bad behavior and he’s struggling to understand. (~1.4k words)

 ** _Warnings:_** super toxic Atsumu, toxic relationships, fem!reader, references to sex

 ** _A/N:_** literally don’t date a dude like this i’m not promoting anything lmfao. also it’s just bad feeling in this fic, no one gets gravely injured.

Song: [S**c*dal by YNW Melly](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D9OmgXxiKV7A%26ab_channel%3DYNWMelly&t=Zjc1Mjc3YzQ5M2UwMjAzYzM0ZmJmZTYwYzI5ZTRiMjk5ZDE0MmFjNixtVkh4UUl4dA%3D%3D&b=t%3ABQKs-yEil23gi3WAgV7w2w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fdaddyjima.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F635636296173404160%2Flesson-atsumu-x-reader&m=1&ts=1606451483)

* * *

**_I thought that we were meant to be_ **

**_You took my heart and made it bleed_ **

**_I gave you all my ecstasy_ **

**_I know you’ll be the death of me_ **

****

One ring, two rings, three rings, four. No response. 

In the pitch dark of his bedroom, his face incompletely illuminated by the light of his cell phone, Atsumu Miya sends his fifth text of the night. 

**Pick up, please.**

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings. Again, no response.

Atsumu feels his chest tighten, and his face flushes even redder than before, but he’s not yet angry. He’s still desperate to hear your voice. He sends yet another text.

**I’m sorry, I’ll change… I’ll do anything you want. Just please just pick up the phone.**

He gives you time to respond. That’s what you’ve always asked from him, right? Time, in terms of attention, in terms of patience, in terms of advancing the relationship in a direction that you thought was fruitful.

He hated so much that you always wanted to set the pace. Whether it was when to become exclusive, when to start having sex regularly, when to meet the losers you called your friends, when to meet your parents. You wanted to control everything, and even that you had essentially cut him out of your life, you were again controlling his reactions.

Why else would he still be up at 4am, trying so hard to get your attention? All his better logic told him you were asleep, maybe even asleep in that piece of shit’s arms, but multiple shots of Hennessey told him it was right to text and call and beg. After all, you had said once that you’d be by his side no matter what. 

So why was he alone in this bed?

Ten minutes pass and he calls again.

One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings, five rings, six. No response.

 **I know it’s late, but I need you,** he texts, and then he calls again.

One ring and the phone abruptly cuts off, and Atsumu’s bottled up emotions explode.

“ _Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available -_ ”

“Fuck, ___! Ya stupid fucking bitch, you.. You always wanted me to care for you so here I am caring, why the fuck would you do this to me, why the fuck… are you serious? Why…,” his slightly slurring voice loses steam and trails off instead as tears start to well up in his tired eyes.

“Why would ya give up on me now?”

**_Left lipstick on my Hennessy_ **

**_Felt like you took my soul from me_ **

**_You gave me all your ecstasy_ **

**_I thought that we were meant to be_ **

****

Atsumu was always confident and having your unconditional love and support despite the way he treated you only served to supplant that arrogance. You’d never leave him, you always grinned and bore anything he threw at you.

“Shut the fuck up at my matches.”

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the team.”

“I’m not interested, ask somebody else.”

“Find something better to do than follow me around, you’re so needy.”

He barely looked at you when his words were harsh, so he couldn’t see your smiles towards him deepen into frowns every time he spoke to you without respect until eventually all that remained was contempt when you looked in his direction.

But would he have realized then? Maybe your own regard would have simply fallen in line with the way others saw him. He didn’t care what others thought. He was sure he didn’t care what you thought. Until now. 

**_Baby, you took control of me_ **

**_And I got too many enemies_ **

**_I knew you wanted to fuck him ‘cause I could just tell_ **

**_Check my back, now I’m, now I’m in my bag, yeah_ **

**_You did me bad, you did me bad_ **

**_But I said, “Fuck it,” and I ran up my bag, yeah_ **

****

Atsumu never hung up the phone as he blew up, despite holding back warm tears that clouded his vision even more so than the pitch blackness of the room.

“Fucking whore, I bet you’re at his place now, you stupid, stupid slut!” He yelled into the phone.

But you’d never cheated. You’d just quietly asked him to treat you better or you would leave him, and he had simply laughed.

“Do you think you can find better?” He had asked, and your stomach had turned at the cruel way his smile upturned as he stepped closer to you, towering you with his height and gripping your face with two fingers. “You may be pretty, little piggy, but there’s not much better than me, silly.”

“I-I don’t want to leave you… I just want you to be a little less mean.”

“A little less mean, or a little less me?” He teased before planting a kiss on your trembling mouth, biting your lower lip just slightly as he parted.

“‘Sumu please…,” you insisted, flustered that he still made you hot despite how much you realized he was objectively awful to you.

**_“Why should I be nicer to you when you’re desperate for my cock anyway?”_ **

So sure that you would never take your eyes off of him as he perfected his tosses game after game, he didn’t notice you slip away. He didn’t notice the increased time you spent out with friends distancing yourself from him or that the way your face now lit up when you received texts from heaven-knows-who.

Why would he have to? You would always be by his side no matter what.

**_But you didn’t even put it all on the line_ **

**_For me, no, oh, I’m sorry_ **

**_This is the end of us_ **

**_It’s crazy 'cause my heart is dangerous_ **

****

“Let’s break up.”

He laughed when you said those words right on the phone, right when he was on his way to meet you.

You? Breaking up with him?

“Yer so funny, ___. Anyway, I had a rough day babe, so you already know what I need.”

“I’m serious, Atsumu. Don’t come here… I-I won’t open the door.”

Your resolve had been shaky, but you were firm. So firm in fact that he found himself standing in front of the door banging as hard as he could for your attention, as you remained inside, using loud headphones to block out the racket as well as the expletives now filling the hallway. You considered for a moment calling the police, but you knew it would kill a man as proud as Atsumu to be escorted out by authorities on your behalf. 

Again, for his sake and for the last time, you endured it.

**_Felt like you took my soul from me_ **

**_Like the devil got a hold on me_ **

**_Everybody wishin’ bad on me_ **

**_Everybody wishin’ bad on me_ **

****

“She’s a stupid fucking slut, I should have known from the start, can’t trust these bitches no matter what they tell you,” Atsumu grumbled, seated at his brother’s restaurant, now that he had taken a moment to stop roasting the quality of the free onigiri his brother had offered him and had enough time to be vulnerable.

Osamu’s droopy eyes, not unlike his furious brother in front of him, looked almost exasperated.

“I mean, you’re sort of a douche,” he finally replied flatly.

“And?”

Osamu would have added something else if not for the fact that Atsumu had started choking on the food he was wolfing down with reckless abandon. While Osamu said nothing further, he made a mental note to expect Atsumu way more often and to check in. It was painfully evident that his twin was way more hurt than he let on. 

It was only after he got drunk enough that he finally admitted,

“I wish I had listened to her.”

**_You taught a lesson to me that I had to learn_ **

**_And I’m so sorry 'cause you let our bridges burn_ **

**_I said I loved you and I wish I never did_ **

**_I swear to God, I swear to God, you stupid bitch_ **

“ _I fucking hate you, ya know that? I hate you so fucking much. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you…_ ”

His voice warbles from alcohol and now he’s repeating that phrase over and over again; the message seems to go on for forever, but you listen to every word. The fact of the matter is that you miss him, and you wish you didn’t. You know he needs you but you need him to be better. 

So you continue to listen, not because you want to hear him suffer and not because you want to be with him anymore - at least not right now, anyway - but because you need closure. Evidence. Reassurance that he was really not ready to love you.

He curses you for leaving him for what feels like forever, but then nothing more is said and you’re sure he’s fallen asleep, but his last words haunt you:

**_“I loved you so fucking much.”_ **


	8. Be My Last - Iwaizumi x Reader

**_Summary:_** You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~3.5k words)

 ** _Warnings:_** stubborn ass reader, very slight nsfw at the end

 ** _A/N:_** It took me a long time to write this because I have trouble with fluff and also trouble with characterizing Iwa lmfao, I might need a second watch. I hope you enjoy! Happy Thanksgiving!

* * *

“Are you serious?! Are you really saying no to _this_ face?”

Your best friend was now leaning so far across the fast food dining table that she had practically climbed on top of it, holding up her phone just inches from your face to force you to take a better look at the picture of the blind date she had arranged for you. 

Your eyes crossed uncomfortably by reflex and you pulled back sharply to grab the phone from her and take a better look. On second glance, you had to admit that the guy standing next to Oikawa was quite good-looking, a couple inches shorter but with a sturdier build, sharper features and just enough scowl in his facial expression to intrigue you. 

In fact, he was exactly your type.

“Just one date,” your friend insisted. “You’ve been pining over your ex for almost a year now! You don’t have to fall in love but maybe a small distraction? Plus, double dates would be so fun, come onnnnn~”

Your friend was only rarely this animated so you knew she really wanted this but the idea of even considering romance again after being dumped so harshly before was so undesirable that you stubbornly shook your head instead and took another bite of your burger.

“___, please?”

You frowned, and your friend’s pout grew deeper once she realized there was a pretty good chance you wouldn’t budge about this. After all, you’d rejected every single person that so much as looked in your direction so effectively these past few months that it had essentially become an afterthought.

She leaned back in her seat, occupying herself now with picking out a particularly long fry off of the platter you were sharing, trying to minimize her disappointment. Despite how much she hoped you would say yes, she could understand why you felt the way you did.

“I’m sorry,” you offered, sipping on your drink. She let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, I’ll try to figure out a compassionate way to let Iwa now that you’re not interested. Honestly, Oikawa will probably be more offended by it than me.”

At this last comment, her eyes twinkled softly with a mild amusement and she started to text her boyfriend. However, knowing that it would possibly be a bigger deal to reject Oikawa’s best friend right off the bat than to just endure a date once, you reconsidered.

“Fine! Stop, I don’t need Tooru yelling in my ears. I’ll go.”

She smiled. You’d fallen right into her trap.

* * *

Exactly 72 hours later almost to the minute, you found yourself standing before the duo of childhood friends at the entrance of a town fair, your friend by your side.

Oikawa’s partner-in-crime was, to both your surprise and chagrin, even better looking in person. Kinder too, if you discounted the glare he shot at Oikawa when he introduced him mock affectionately as _‘Iwa-chan, his very best friend in the whole wide world’_. You stifled a laugh as Iwa released Oikawa from a headlock, and introduced yourself politely to him noticing the very faint pinking of the ears that accompanied the softening of his expression as he shifted his attention to you.

A small fluster you couldn’t help but find cute was evident in his voice as he shared his full name - Iwaizumi Hajime. _Strike one._

 _Strike two_ was the careful distance he left between you two as you walked through the street fair, just steps behind Oikawa and your friend who trekked confidently and comfortably linked hand in hand. His questions were respectful but pointed, like he truly wanted to get to know you as much as possible, and as he listened he leaned in just so, making sure to hear you clearly over the bustle of the busy crowds.

He helped you with your safety belts as you strapped in together on small thrill rides and you could catch his furtive glances in the corner of your eyes as you laughed and screamed.

A part of you wondered if it was too quick, if it was a bad omen that he already appeared smitten with you despite having just met. However, you had missed the feeling of someone liking you genuinely and explicitly so, dating back from even before you had started having problems in your last relationship, so you appreciated it wholeheartedly.

 _Strike three_ was him immediately setting a time and a date to meet again, without the hovering presence of your best friends, which he emphasized loudly to listening ears behind you (Oikawa made his disappointment at being excluded quite apparent by groaning loudly within earshot).

“I really enjoyed spending time with you today, ___.”

It wasn’t too much, wasn’t too little and wasn’t too soon.

“So did I.” You replied with a smile more genuine than you’d had for months.

* * *

Date two went as smoothly as date one.

Dinner and a movie, a classic. Iwa had chosen a psychological thriller that you had been looking forward to for a couple weeks and prior to meeting you’d started to text back and forth regularly about theories, so thereafter sprang forth endless spirited debates. As the evening progressed, you noticed him yielding earlier and earlier, and you noticed that he got quieter as the night went on, preferring to sit back and watch you talk. You couldn’t tell if it was the few cocktails with dinner but soon you were distracted by eyes that rested on you easily with an accompanied smile. It was enough to make your face grow warm.

“Am I talking too much?” You asked, sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I get like this when I’m excited.”

“I love hearing you talk,” he replied with a small laugh. “No one can talk as much as Oikawa so don’t worry.”

Your smile spread from ear to ear and you could feel your bruised heart grow ever so slightly.

* * *

Date three, four and five had you swept off your feet and you found yourself falling between hikes, picnics and aquarium trips. 

Which was why when your friend called you to gloat about how she was right about you two all along, you realized just how deep you had fallen and almost instantly, that familiar fear that you had been nursing for the past year settled back into your consciousness.

You couldn’t bear another heartbreak. The thought of Iwa’s warm smiles becoming addictive and constantly craving the feel of his hands on your skin only to then be discarded like a participation ribbon hung heavy on you.

“I.. I don’t think I can keep seeing him,” you said, in sudden realization, despite the fact that you had been gushing about your dates just minutes earlier.

You could hear a pause on the other end of the line, and then your friend asked softly, “Is it because you still miss him?” 

The other _him_. Of course you did, you still lived in the apartment the two of you had shared right after college, having given yourself multiple excuses not to move out. You hadn’t even bothered to change the decorations you’d bought together and thus every part of this place reminded you of him. 

You even watered the plants he had left behind every morning. You couldn’t tell if it was because you had grown attached to them or worse - because you thought maybe, just maybe, if he ever came back, he’d want to know that you were always nursing your love.

“I’m… not sure,” you replied.

Your friend sighed audibly into the phone.

“You’re missing out on someone great, but I’ll support you regardless.”

* * *

Your graduate classes ended late the next evening, and you stumbled into your apartment with mild exhaustion, kicking off your shoes and slipping off your jeans before plopping on your bed.

Iwa had said he wanted to come see you, and even though just a few days ago you had been excited at the prospect of spending time with him in your own home, your stomach fluttered with a different type of alarm when you considered the fact that if you were to tell him you were no longer interested in letting whatever was between you bloom, it would have to be now.

Would it be better to tell him over text message or on the phone or in person? You didn’t want to see the look on his face when you hurt him; you knew it would change your resolve. 

If you called him on the phone, would you be able to withstand hearing the disappointment in his voice? Would he demand a reason, and would he tell you your weak one wasn’t enough?

If you sent him a simple text and then blocked his number, would you be the awful person too chickenshit to say the words to his face?

Your phone buzzed just as you were paralyzed with your choices.

I’m 20 minutes away. How was your class?

You froze.

20 minutes to make a decision. Would you have him come all this way just to drop him without a very good reason in the comfort of your own home?

You stared at your phone for five minutes longer, perseverating, only to be startled out of your trance when you saw his name flash over the front. You forgot you had read receipts on; it had never been a problem before.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice dripped of concern. “You read but didn’t answer.”

“Y-yeah, of course! Class was good… I’ll see you in a bit.”

* * *

You soon wished you hadn’t let Iwa into your apartment. Now that he was here snuggled with you on the couch, close enough that you could take in his scent, all you could think of was the thought of his lips on yours.

5 dates and you hadn’t yet kissed. Maybe that was for the best, you were planning to break up with him anyway, weren’t you?

You weren’t exactly sure when you had crept so close to each other, but your head now rested gently on his shoulder and his hand had at some point snaked around your waist to pull you against him. You could feel your heart pound in your chest as you stayed close in the dark, and maybe you could feel his own heart beat, steady as his breathing despite the tension building in the air.

You had lost track of the plot of the movie on your flat screen long ago, too preoccupied with the flurry of potential ensuing scenes between you in your head.

What would stop you from going full speed ahead? The fear that you wouldn’t matter enough to him once months came to pass and he learned just how far short you fell from his perfect perception of you? Or that you would once again find yourself in darkness, wondering how many times you’d open your heart only to wish you had kept it guarded?

Or maybe it was the reality that you weren’t sure that you really wanted to move on?

Iwa was a good person, he didn’t deserve your hesitation.

He shifted ever so slightly beside you and in the backlight of the flashing scenes on the television screen, you could see his eyes settle on your lips.

“Is it okay if we-,” he started, only to be interrupted by the fact that you had already pulled him in by the shirt collar and were lost in the taste of him on your tongue. You could tell he was surprised, but Iwa leaned into your kiss, pulling you now fully onto his lap and holding you steady by the waist as the two of you made out. 

Your hands crept up to his face, fingers gently trailing then cupping the curve of his jaw, and the longer you kissed, the more of him you wanted. When his hands started to tug just slightly at the edge of your shirt to warn you he was going underneath, you tensed but nodded to allow him to palm a breast and roll a nipple between two fingers.

A soft moan left you, renewed when Iwa’s lips left your mouth to kiss a spot just before your earlobe, and his other hand pressed firmly into the small of your back to secure you even closer to him, close enough that you could feel his bulge pressing through his jeans and against your body. Knowing that you could feel him, he whispered breathily into your ear:

“I won’t continue if you don’t want me to.”

Did you want him to continue?

You pulled back from him to study his face, glowing with an earnest desire for you and suddenly you felt so guilty. 

“I… I think we should stop here,” you choked out, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks and the flicker of disappointment in his face, and you slowly climbed off him, embarrassed as you stood on your feet.

He didn’t ask why and replied with acceptance.

“Okay.”

* * *

What he didn’t accept was you finally telling him you no longer wanted to see him in a text message hastily conjured in the middle of the night after a particularly hard day.

He called immediately and you let the phone ring, biting your lip the entire six rings it took for him to give up. He didn’t leave a voice message, but sent you a short text.

**_I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Can we please talk?_ **

You fought back the urge to cry as you turned over to go to sleep.

He called again in the morning, and when you ignored his call for a second time, the unreasonable part of you waited for a follow-up voicemail or text message which never came. Good for you. You couldn’t understand your own feelings right now and you didn’t deserve to have him sort them out for you.

At least if you acted like a bitch, he would drop you before you could change your mind.

* * *

“A text message? Really?”

Your friend had dropped by the following Saturday morning for brunch and while you had dreaded this conversation, you had expected it to happen and steeled yourself for the admonishment. You shrugged, avoiding looking at her in the eyes and focusing on watering the plants at your windowsill. Your friend watched you carefully, irritation bubbling within her in response to your stubborn silence.

“I wouldn’t be so insistent if I knew you didn’t like him, but you do! Everyone can see it!”

You didn’t reply, opening your blinds instead. Plants needed lots of sun in addition to water.

“___, I didn’t want to be harsh but _he_ ’s not coming back. Even if it’s not with Iwa, please… please get over him.”

You finally turned and gave her a meaningful look, tears now coming to your eyes. Your friend’s mouth fell slightly ajar and realizing just how harsh her truth had been, she got up from your kitchen table and walked over to you to envelop you in a hug as you came undone.

* * *

A total of three weeks passed, and you finally admitted to yourself that you missed Iwa but it was clearly too late to fix anything. Calling him up would just get you ignored (and rightfully so) and you couldn’t bear to send another text message after ghosting him. Instead you watered your ex’s plants and focused on your classes.

Your best friend had forgiven you for your cruelty even though she let you know she was still suffering from Oikawa’s wrath on your behalf, so instead you decided to distract yourself by going out with other friends and picking up new hobbies.

A girl you were getting to know from class was very excited about a new high-end gym that had opened with nice amenities including a pool and a sauna and free physical training sessions with membership so you indulged her by going as a guest on a weekend.

You had to admit that the place was beautiful, and you made a beeline for the elliptical, a tried and true contraption. She had been making a fuss about one of the instructors being attractive which you had in all honesty paid very little attention to, until she dragged you by the arm to hiss into your ear.

“There he is, don’t look too obviously.”

You turned to find yourself staring straight at Iwaizumi Hajime, physical trainer.

“Oh shit, he’s looking at you,” she whispered, but you were already making your way to the exit. “Wait, where are you going?”

Your pace had gone from a walk to almost a run.

“____!” you heard him call behind you as you scurried as fast as you could off of the premises. Embarrassing. So, so embarrassing.

His voice was starting to sound aggravated, and your run stuttered to a standstill. What were you doing? Running from someone because you told them you didn’t want to date them?

He caught up to you in the parking lot and he no longer smiled; there was a tinge of mild irritation that graced his facial expression as he looked at you.

“Please stop running from me. You don’t need to make it awkward… I… I’m not thinking about it.” He glanced away at the last statement, but you knew he was being sincere while you were being ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and you thought maybe you would say more but he cut you off.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Have a good workout. If you need any help, I’m available, as are the other instructors.”

Professional and curt, he bowed before turning, and before you realized what you were doing, you found yourself tugging onto the sleeve of his shirt to hold him back. When he looked back to you again, while he didn’t give you the fierce scowl he reserved for Oikawa, his expression was still harsh as he looked down at you, waiting to see what you had to say.

What did you want to say? You already said you were sorry, there wasn’t much else to add.

Words failed you and you recoiled ever so slightly. He sighed audibly, and turned fully to face you.

“___, please don’t play with my feelings.”

You deflated as he waited just a few more moments for you to come up with the courage to say you still wanted him, and when you were unable to come up with the words, he bowed again, and returned to the building. 

Moments later, you texted your friend to tell her you were sorry, but you were going home immediately.

* * *

It was a few minutes past 9pm and you had all but forgotten the sting of Iwa’s words as you focused on homework, listening to lo-fi music to help you concentrate. Your phone buzzed once, and you expected maybe your classmate to yell at you again for ditching her, but instead you found a message from Iwa. 

**_I’m sorry for speaking to you that way._ **

Your heart thumped hard once in your chest, and you flipped your phone over to get back to work, but it was too late. Your concentration was shot for the night.

 **I’m ready to listen to whatever you have to say,** a second message read.

What would happen if you wore your heart on your sleeve just one more time? 

Iwa called you before you could call him, and this time you picked up, breathing a hesitant “Hello?” into the phone.

“___, I like you. A lot,” he paused, as those words sank into your heart. “I’m sorry, I wanted to get that out of the way.”

“I do, too,” you replied just as quickly. 

Another pause. You swallowed hard and continued,

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

His reply was fast. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

You frowned. “You don’t understand… I still think I have some unresolved feelings for someone else, and I just… I don’t want to wrong you in the long run.”

Another pause. You pressed your eyes shut, anticipating the worst, whatever it was. It felt as though you were on the line for ages, until suddenly Iwa finally spoke.

“Try me.”

“What?” Your shock was audible, and he repeated himself. 

“Use me if you need to.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. 

“But-”

“I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a short time, but I can’t explain it… I know I’m willing to risk it.” The confidence in his voice was almost shocking, and it made your heart swell. 

“Hajime…” 

“May I come over?”

* * *

The conversation ended with Iwa promising you that he’d make you forget your ex, your faces now just inches from each other, him hovering above you as you laid on your back in the comfort of your bed, eyes feasting on his exemplary physique. Starting up where you left off just three weeks prior, you held onto him for dear life as his hips rolled against you, his body pistoning into you carefully and precisely, his hands gentle and steady, and both of your hearts full.

If you were worried about using him, then don’t. Use him as much as you need to. He was giving you permission, is what he said.

Would you take advantage of him? 

Now that you were in his embrace, you found it unlikely: for the very first time in a year, you knew that while you weren’t in love yet, you could feel yourself falling very, very soon.


	9. Eat - Osamu x Reader

**_Summary:_** Osamu realizes he’s in love with a stranger who frequents his shop. (~1.4k words)

 ** _Warnings:_** fem!reader, sfw, fluff. 

**_A/N:_** This song always gets me in my feelings. I feel like Osamu really shows his love through food.

**Song:** [Eat by Zion.T](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DIbb5RhoKfzE%26ab_channel%3D1theK%2528%25EC%259B%2590%25EB%258D%2594%25EC%25BC%2580%25EC%259D%25B4%2529&t=MTM4NjEwMjdjOTBhODZiMTdiOGNmODk5NjhmMTdmM2VlMmZjYWNkZSxjREo0Ynptbg%3D%3D&b=t%3ABQKs-yEil23gi3WAgV7w2w&p=https%3A%2F%2Fdaddyjima.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F637154571841683456%2Feat-osamu-x-reader&m=1&ts=1611989338)

—

_**Hello** _

_**It’s not easy, you’re busy** _

_**You wonder why you have to go this far** _

_**There’s so many damn things they want** _

_**(Yes)** _

__

Miya Osamu watched you carefully as you sat at one of two high tables of the small restaurant in the corner, staring out the window and trying desperately not to cry.

He wasn’t exactly sure _when_ \- when his ears had started to perk up to the sound of the door chiming as you wandered in somewhere around 6pm on Mondays and Wednesdays, or when he had started to memorize your order (two salmon onigiri lightly dusted with furikake, sometimes a warm cup of plain green tea), or when he started looking forward to your smile.

He wasn’t exactly sure _why_ today was different, but as he thought back, he realized he may have been too enamored by your brilliant presence to notice the very gradual, almost imperceptible fade of the light in your eyes.

But it didn’t matter when or how, only what was. 

Osamu was self aware enough to realize that he had developed a crush on you, as you stood out from the many customers who frequented his shop day to day.

And today you were hurting, and he wanted with all his heart to provide you some comfort, but the truth was that to you, he was just the onigiri seller no matter how sweet or kind you spoke to him when you arrived.

He wasn’t sure you remembered his name but he remembered yours when you’d become enough of a regular to introduce yourself by name. 

He didn’t want you, the customer with the beautiful name, to be upset.

**_You want a break_ **

**_It’s so noisy_ **

**_It’s all so annoying, right?_ **

**_Wanna go home, right?_ **

**_(You are home)_ **

**_But you want to go home_ **

It was embarrassing for him really, Osamu mused some nights as he closed up shop after having let loose his two energetic junior employees about an hour earlier. He knew his brother would mock him endlessly if he ever brought it up, or at least push him to do something about his fascination with you. 

_You’re almost as good-looking as me, just ask her out,_ Atsumu would reply without a second thought, and that imagined scene made him almost snort with a mixture of amusement and irritation. A practical answer to a simple issue.

But it wasn’t so simple, the soft affection he’d developed for you. Something about you was distant and pure and somehow pure _solely_ because of that distance, and he felt that a word to you out of the realm in which words like _‘Please enjoy your meal’_ and _‘Visit us again’_ lay would taint the sanctity of that barely-there connection between the two of you.

But watching you cry like this, alone and in his view made him feel his heart ache - in fact he felt heartless - and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. 

**_Then take this song out like eat it like chocolate_ **

**_Even if you’re tired, make sure you eat breakfast and lunch_ **

**_Then I’ll compliment you later_ **

****

You had been coming in for months. usually alone but not always, grinning widely as you greeted him and pointing enthusiastically at the menu as you ordered, but noticeably, if only barely so, weary from a long day of work. He’d never asked you where you worked but he assumed it was some type of office - your blouses were plain and professional, your hair neat and your makeup light.

A simple beauty, accented by what was within, just like onigiri.

Osamu had motivation enough in his day to day, but whenever he thought of you coming in those two days a week, his cheeks warmed just slightly, and maybe he worked even harder as the clock approached 6pm because you would come in at any moment.

He remembered when you’d tried your first meal and told him directly, your face glowing with unadulterated, enthusiastic pleasure, that it had been the best thing you’d ever tasted.

He didn’t always care for praise, but it was different when coming from you.

What if he also one day had the opportunity to praise you?

**_Miss you_ **

**_I like you a lot_ **

**_I want to hug you more_ **

**_Love, love, it’s like love_ **

**_Maybe I really love you_ **

Was it too much to tell you now that whatever it was you were sad about, he wanted to make it better?

Would you be embarrassed that in a burst of unabashed confidence (because maybe he and his brother really were twins), he was coming to sit across from you and breach the understanding that you were barely acquaintances?

You startled so very slightly as you heard the seat shift in front of you, and you turned slowly to face him. You couldn’t exactly read his expression now - unlike you, his feelings were not so clearly etched in his features and his eyes did not swim with tears.

He silently moved the untouched plate of food in front of you that you’d requested out of habit aside in favor of a different, colorful plate of rice balls.

“Can you try this for me, ___-san?”

His arms crossed over his chest and he looked at you attentively. You knew he was trying to avoid addressing the fact that you were weeping in the middle of his restaurant.

“Haha, a-are you sure? I… don’t have very refined taste,” you joked, but your voice trembled just a little too much to successfully convey humor. His eyes on you were intense but warm, like the glowing coals of a fire and suddenly you felt scrutinized in a way you hadn’t before, but not uncomfortably so. Something like being truly seen, unlike the way you had been feeling recently.

Reflexively, you wiped off some tears from your face out of embarrassment and couldn’t help a sniffle, and he quickly handed you a tissue.

“I want to hear from you especially.”

**_When you’re hungry_ **

**_Take this song out like a morning apple and eat it_ **

**_Even if you’re tired, make sure you eat breakfast and lunch_ **

**_Then you’ll sleep better later at night_ **

****

A smile unintentionally spread over Osamu’s face as you finished the onigiri in just a few bites, because you were no longer crying and instead consumed in a genuine appreciation of the food, your eyes closed as you focused only on your sense of taste.

“This is incredible-,” you started, but once you opened your eyes and saw the pink tinge to his face and the way his mouth parted just slightly as he lost himself admiring you, your own face began to flush. 

You remembered your big fat crush on the shop owner sitting in front of you, the one you didn’t act on because you couldn’t risk getting rejected and losing your favorite place for comfort food after work (especially after these days work was so awful).

As you sat together in an awkward silence, you wondered if he felt the same way too.

**_It’s hard_ **

**_Because it’s beautiful_ **

**_Recognize me_ **

**_Don’t glance at me_ **

**_Love me, me_ **

**_Don’t miss it_ **

“What else?” He finally asked, breaking the silence. You looked at Osamu with surprise, confused by what he meant.

“It was good enough that you smiled even though you were sad, ____-san.”

His voice was teasing now and you didn’t have a witty answer for him, too distracted by how easily and comfortably your name rolled off his tongue, as though you were old friends. He never smiled this widely before, you realized, and you wondered what it would take to get to see this smile again.

He waited for a few moments for you to answer as you sat flustered, then sighed airily before standing up and clearing the table.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he decided, taking mercy on the myriad of emotions he saw running through you. Now confident that he’d solidified that strange formless connection with you without fear of you running from him, he patted your shoulder with his free hand before walking off.

“But I’ll make you something special the next time you come by,” he called before he disappeared into the kitchen, and you thanked the stars that he couldn’t possibly know how much your heart fluttered.

**_Even if you’re tired, make sure you eat breakfast and lunch_ **

**_Then you’ll sleep better later at night_ **

****

For today, this was enough. Osamu relished in the fact that he’d made you smile as he closed shop for another night.

He wouldn’t be too greedy today, he couldn’t.

But maybe next time you came with an empty stomach, he’d try to fill your heart as well.


	10. All I Want For Christmas - Kuroo x Reader

**_Summary:_** You and VP!Kuroo go to a holiday party. (2.1k words)

 ** _Warnings:_** quite nsfw, fem!reader

 ** _A/N:_** After I deleted the post I lost the original ask lmfaooo, anyway I hope you see this anon <33\. Smut is closer to the end, but it’s there I promise.

* * *

When you’d finally agreed after numerous appeals of various types and intensities to date Kuroo seriously and most importantly to him, _openly_ , you hadn’t considered something very crucial - being his steady partner would mean accompanying him to formal events.

Company events were one thing. At this point, everyone in your office was aware that there was something going on between you and the vice president, so the rumor mill had already had its fun with the two of you and the jokes and teasing comments had long gotten stale. Anything else they threw at you at happy hour you could handle expertly, especially with the help of a couple drinks.

It hadn’t occurred to you that as a company executive, Kuroo would be attending bigger events with fancier people, so when he asked you to be his plus one to a networking holiday party outside of the company, you hadn’t asked too many questions before agreeing. To your defense, you were still laying on top of him when he’d asked, your thoughts as pliable as you had been for him just a few moments earlier.

Scheming as usual. 

So now to your misfortune, you fidgeted uncomfortably while seated next to your boyfriend in a company car and for once, Kuroo wasn’t teasing you. Instead, he watched you carefully before placing a comforting hand on your left knee as you fought with the hem of your considerably short dress.

He gave you a sympathetic look before squeezing softly.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t be nervous.”

You frowned. How could you not be nervous? He was taking you to the Japanese Volleyball Association’s Semi-Annual Promotional Party, and all you could think of was every possible way you could embarrass him or embarrass yourself.

The fact that Kuroo actually seemed to feel bad for you only heightened your anxiety, but you tried to focus on his hand gripping yours tightly as you walked past media reporters stalking the outside of the building so that you didn’t lose him in the swathes of people who dealt either with big business, sports or both.

The venue was expansive and heavily yet tastefully decorated in red and white and green and so many lights, in keeping with a Christmas theme; it was enough to make your jaw drop just slightly in awe. However, there was little time to soak in the ambiance and music as Kuroo whisked you through the venue to speak to potential clients, the real purpose of this event.

Despite the fact that Kuroo kept you close, it was easy to feel small as people schmoozed amongst each other, and it was more than once or twice that you caught a few glances, some curious, others critical, in your direction. Again you wondered if your makeup was too light or too heavy, if your dress was tasteful or if the discomfort you were feeling could be read all over your face.

Kuroo on the other hand was in his element, working the room smoothly and effortlessly, and in that moment you realized how easily he blended in but still stood out, his laugh distinct and gestures casual and yet room-commanding. Soon you wondered why exactly he was interested in you when it was clear you didn’t exactly fit the glamorous scene around you. 

But it would only be a couple more hours, you could bear it.

You broke free from him while he was engaged with a client and found a table at which to stand and wait for time to pass. Sipping quietly on red wine, you focused on Mariah Carey’s _All I Want For Christmas is You_ , humming as you detached from the scene around you. You sent a couple of texts to friends, but as it often was at times like this, no one seemed to be available.

You let out a sigh of defeat, leaning forward to rest on your elbows, and that’s when you noticed in your peripheral vision that someone had appeared to stand right beside you.

You glanced over in surprise.

“Oh, Kenma?”

Kenma offered you a small smile and leaned in the same position beside you, typing out a couple messages on his phone before he addressed you properly. 

“Kuroo brought you along, I’m surprised,” he added, catlike brown eyes focused on you now.

While you’d interacted rarely with Kenma over the past months that you’d been dating Kuroo, you were acquainted enough with his much more introverted friend, often blunt but never really intentionally rude. But somehow this comment grated on your nerves, and you took a larger gulp of your wine.

You said nothing for the next few moments, and you could hear Kenma beside you again tip-tapping quietly on his cell phone.

“If it helps, I don’t want to be here either,” he finally added.

You looked back at him to raise an eyebrow and he offered a small smile before looking back at his phone. 

“I’m supposed to be networking for my company but I’m not very good at it, so he just gets the clients for me and calls me over to secure the deal,” he elaborated. When you peered over, you realized he was in the middle of a mobile game at the very moment.

Maybe he was more out of place than you were, and somehow that was reassuring.

“What game is that?” You asked, poking at your small plate of hors d’oeuvres. 

While he explained his game to you with muted excitement and you looked at his screen with interest, Kuroo glanced over to see you finally looking something other than stressed and smiled. He would wrap up quickly with business and then all his attention would be on you. 

Kenma, the good friend he was, was returning his kindnesses as usual.

* * *

“May I have this dance?”

Minutes later, Kuroo had walked over to your table, smiling at you both and extending an arm out. You had considered how satisfied you would feel being a brat and saying no, you’d rather spend the rest of the evening talking to Kenma, but instead you acquiesced. 

He was only doing his job and you wanted to be supportive. That was part of what it meant to date seriously, wasn’t it? Being slightly out of your comfort zone for your partner’s sake?

Something like that.

Now that you swayed back and forth under a large chandelier, you could tell he was apologetic by the way his hand caressed the back of your head. Maybe you were a little too close for a cocktail party but it felt nice to feel his warmth and you weren’t fond of all these people anyway.

“You okay, kitten?”

You nodded.

“You’re usually so feisty at work so I didn’t think hard enough about you feeling uncomfortable with all these stuffy business people.”

To that you let out a soft laugh. “Okay but you rarely think.”

He smirked then kissed the top of your head. “Maybe I got too excited by the prospect of having the prettiest girl in the room on my arm.”

You slapped his chest playfully once before resting your head on his chest again. Two paces later, he rested his chin above your head.

“We can take it slower if you’d like. If you want to stay more private, I mean. You’ve been generous to me so far after all.”

Your pace slowed ever so slightly as you looked up at him confused. “What do you mean?”

_“Christmas came early for me, since you’re here in my arms.”_

* * *

About an hour later, now that the two of you were back in the privacy of Kuroo’s penthouse apartment, he finally had the time to unwrap his present. He had been endlessly patient as you teased him through the agonizing ride home, your hands sneaking beneath his waistband and fondling his privates while hidden by the partition, but you were now in his domain.

Before the door slammed completely shut, you’d both gone from poised to savage - he drew your dress up over your shoulders by that oh-so-annoying hem and tossed it aside, and you’d just as quickly all but yanked his bowtie off as you removed it. 

“Careful, these clothes are expensive,” he teased, but he was as merciless with the way he tore off your panties and hoisted you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist.

“And?”

 _And_ his lips crashed to yours, and you tried hastily to undo the buttons of his shirt while accepting his tongue in your mouth.

Carrying you to his bed while making out was a coordinated feat for someone whose pants were undone and now precariously sinking to his ankles, but Kuroo was light on his feet. When he lowered you onto the bed, you could see the outline of his hard cock forming a tent through the clothing and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.

“Relax, you’re like a kid on Christmas morning,” you teased and he pouted, but you leaned forward and freed him, going the extra mile to take his cockhead in your mouth. 

He let out a soft moan, his hand immediately reaching for your hair, and you took more inches of him in your mouth, in your throat, as far as you could go. 

“Fuck, kitten, that feels so fucking good… you’re so good to me…”

Your mouth watered with saliva as you continued to suck, now on your knees on his plush mattress and he pressed your head against him, this time not in comfort but in search of pleasure, moving ever so slightly to see just how far he could go. 

“L-let me make you feel good, baby, you deserve it,” he said finally, pulling you off of him so that he could look into your eyes. “How about the gift that keeps on giving?”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Is this a suave way to tell me you have herpes?”

“69, ___!” 

“I was kidding!” You giggled at his frustrated expression, but once you were repositioned and his face was buried in the pussy he enjoyed so much, you were no longer laughing but quivering with something not short of intense pleasure. Mouth full of cock, it was hard to focus on moving up and down his shaft properly as Kuroo’s hands on your ass were kneading, then slapping, and he still somehow wasn’t relenting on the tongue swishing around your wet cunt.

“K-Kuroo… it’s a lot, I can’t.. do the same for you,” you whined, saliva dripping from your lips as you .

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, muffled between your folds, eating like a man starved.

Your moans started to fill the air as he kissed and sucked faster, and when you started to convulse rapidly, unable to take the stimulation, you arched your back and in response he wrapped strong arms around your midsection to keep you flush against him.

“ _Kuroo!_ ”

“Let me finish, kitten~” he whispered in a singsong voice, and if it weren’t for the fact that your body was starting to buzz in overstimulation, you would have yelled at him.

Once he’d grown bored with torturing your cunt with his mouth, he flipped you over onto your back, hovering over you with a greedy smirk.

“You’re so pretty when you’re pushed to your limit~” he sang with glee. 

Still quivering ever so slightly, you narrowed your eyes at him but they soon widened as his cock finally pushed its way inside you. Wincing ever so slightly, you found yourself scratching at his back, more intensely with every thrust inside you that sent waves of pleasure through you from your toes to your nose.

“Fuck, Kuroo, please.. Don’t stop.”

At this rate, you’d claw permanent lines into his skin.

When his hands tightened around the headboard for support, you could tell he was close to climax, and accordingly, his strokes grew deeper and his grunts grew louder and your own peak started to approach. His chin found a home in the crook of your neck as he growled - that was the sound that finally tipped you over - and he too finally released, filling you with warm jets of cum your walls clenched around greedily.

He remained still for a moment, waiting as his cock only slowly began to soften, whispering praises into your ear.

“You’re so, so good to me… you’re the best gift I could ever have.”

Your hands slowly shifted around him, moving to cup his face tenderly. 

_“Wait till you see what I have in store for Christmas Day.”_


	11. Similar - Osamu x Reader

**_Summary:_** You and Osamu go on a double date with Atsumu. _(~1.2k words)_

 _ **Warnings:** _sfw

 ** _A/N:_** Honestly this is a bit rushed so I might rewrite it but I hope you like it, nonnie.

* * *

Arms loaded with popcorn and other snacks to enjoy during the movie, you trudged back to join your boyfriend where he stood, his usual mildly disinterested expression now replaced with a bit of irritation as he looked at this phone. 

“Is your brother on his way?”

Osamu looked away from his phone at the sound of your voice, reaching a hand out to help you carry the snacks while you slipped his credit card into his pocket. Now that you both had a hand free, you interlocked fingers with him, keeping an eye out on the bustling mall. 

“Did he get stuck in traffic? The movie’s about to start-” you whispered, stopping abruptly when you saw a young man who looked like every bit as much as your ‘Samu but with a large, confident, bordering on cocksure smile on his face. He was casually but well dressed, and with blonde hair unlike Osamu’s gray, and a woman who fit the part of a pretty online ‘influencer’ to a T hung on his arm, laughing loudly. 

“Hey! You realize we’ve been waitin’?” Osamu called out.

Atsumu’s eyebrows raised and he stopped where he stood shoving his hand in his pocket, then his lips spread into a smile as the two of you approached the couple. The young woman beside him did a double take between the two twins, eyes wide. 

“Oh! You’re twins!” She whispered, ignoring Osamu’s surly expression.

Osamu paused then ran a hand through his hair briefly before introducing himself politely to the woman in the group.

“Osamu,” he said with a wave, stepping aside so that you could also introduce yourself to the two, which you did so shyly. 

You noticed Atsumu look you up and down as you introduced yourself, and you worried if you looked plain in comparison to his date, but his eyes were somewhat unreadable much like Osamu’s. 

“Atsumu. Pleased to meet you,” he said, with a smile warmer than you expected. You didn’t dwell on it because Osamu was already nudging you to take you to your seats.

* * *

The movie was captivating enough but you couldn’t help but be distracted by the full on make-out session happening beside you (sloppy noises and all), and somehow by association even laying your head on Osamu’s shoulder seemed to border on licentious. Osamu shot his brother a dirty look but kept his arm steady around your shoulder and you focused on the smell of his shirt and the big screen in front of you.

About an hour and a half later, despite being mostly full of movie theater butter and candy, you found yourself at a burger and shakes joint, and you slurped quietly on a milkshake while Osamu and Atsumu tried to catch up, and Atsumu’s date, whose name you eventually registered as Hana, texted in between furtive glances at her date.

“Mom’s been worrying about ya. Call her so she stops calling me.”

Atsumu took a large bite of his meal before replying, “Tell her I’m fine.”

“It’s not the same,” Osamu said, with a sigh, but then leaned back in his chair. A silence hung in the air in which the sound of your straw sucking air seemed to become too loud and you broke the mild tension with a question. 

“So, uh… Atsumu, ‘Samu tells me you used to play volleyball together but now you play professionally?”

Atsumu leaned closer in his chair, a glint now in his eyes. At this, his date Hana seemed to perk up, looking at him carefully, then at you, wondering if she should be concerned about the way he looked at you now.

Atsumu picked a fry off your plate to both Hana and your dismay before continuing. 

“Yeah, Osamu’s good too but I’m definitely better… or at least I cared more. I always do.” 

Atsumu’s eyes didn’t leave you as he chewed and you tried very hard to both dispel the blush forming on your face (not because you were interested in him but because you were so shocked by how bold he was being of course) and deflect Hana’s glares at you. The words were intended to sink and fluster you.

The fact that Osamu said not a single word is even more surprising, and when you looked towards him, his gaze is averted and he looks out the window.

* * *

Even if Osamu acted as though he was unbothered, you could feel unrest coming from him as he tied the laces of your ice skates for you, insisting despite your pleas that you could do them yourself.

“You’ve never skated before, let me help.”

There was a very mild edge to his voice that urged you to let him be overprotective, especially when you could tell he was annoyed by Atsumu’s flirty behavior.

When you looked over, you realized Atsumu was doing the same as Osamu and Hana’s face was overjoyed by it, taking snaps to commemorate the occasion. It occurred to you for a moment that this may be their first date.

Atsumu gave you a smirk when he noticed you watching, and you looked away quickly. 

For a moment you wished for the date to end so you wouldn’t have to manage your discomfort any longer, but when Osamu took you gliding across the large ice skating rink, first carefully, then picking up speed as you acclimated to the feeling of flying together. 

You barely noticed Atsumu and Hana attempting to race past you, with Atsumu looking back to leer at you two provocatively, urging a competition.

Osamu grinned at you in warning first, then picked up the pace, and despite the icy chill that whipped past your face as you went faster than you ever had before, your hands and your heart always remained warm and secure within his. 

* * *

Once finally parted, home and snuggled together on the couch, you found yourself asking if he had pretended not to notice Atsumu brazenly flirting with you throughout that time.

Osamu gave you a single raised eyebrow, then adjusted himself so that his arms are behind his back.

“It looks like a jerk move but it’s his way to look out for me.”

You straightened up from your position laying against him and gave him a good look.

“What?”

“I told him he didn’t need to this time, that you were different, but he didn’t listen. It was annoying, but it’s fine.”

With this, he pulled you just a little bit closer to him and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

“Don’t get mad. It’s not that you aren’t the cutest thing on Earth but honestly you’re not his type,” he said, frankly. You couldn’t shake the slightest bit of irritation at the idea that the brothers would do this slightly manipulative thing, but when you looked at your ‘Samu and you looked at Atsumu who despite his flirty behavior seemed to be somewhat smitten with his date by the end of the night, you realized, that maybe they were truly quite similar.

But that was fine. To you, your ‘Samu would always be the better twin.


	12. Father Dearest - Takashi Utsui x Reader

**_Summary:_** Ushijima makes it clear that he’s not interested in you but you find something better. _(~1.1k words)_

 _ **Warnings:** _age gap but consensual adults, sorta vanilla nsfw i guess it’s all about the mind games

 ** _A/N:_ **this could be better and smuttier but I have to go to sleep lmfao. This is my first old man smut. Shocking.

* * *

Being friend-zoned was hard enough after pining as intensely as you did but damn, you had really outdone yourself this time.

For starters, you had only unintentionally meandered your way into Ushijma’s tight circle, a feat that was already remarkable enough on its own. The athlete’s resting facial expression was always intimidating and he kept the number of people he engaged with emotionally low, even if over time you realized he was a lot softer and sweeter than he let on. 

Yours was an odd sort of friendship that had begun after being paired together for a school project. You’d been irritated enough that you were still doing group work in the second half of your junior year of college, and terrified once you realized you’d be doing it with him of all people, but a small camaraderie had bloomed after you’d gotten to know him for what he truly was - a kind, sweet, and unfortunately for you, very attractive soul.

But then you’d gotten too comfortable and furthermore, just a bit too bold, and you made the mistake of developing a crush. Even worse - you had actually _told him_ how you felt.

Polite yet direct as he was, he let you down gently but to you, it was possibly the harshest thing you’d ever heard in your life.

**_“I’m just not interested in dating right now, and we are certainly better suited as friends.”_ **

You were shocked that you’d managed to not burst in tears, and somehow you’d remained stone-faced. It was even more shocking that in those few words, that was the end of that conversation. In fact, once the words had settled in the air between you, he gave you a sympathetic but un-invested look and immediately thereafter, he’d flipped the page in his textbook in an inadvertently symbolic fashion to return promptly back to his work.

A singular focus - you’d admired that about him, but the rejection was harsh, especially when he acted as though nothing had happened on that day and days afterwards.

But could you really fault him? 

You’d still agreed to meet him at his dorm for another studying session - or rather a tutoring session, since you were the only one who knew what was going on in class at this point and Ushijima wouldn’t risk his athletic scholarship in a million years.

So here you were, making your way through the hallway at the end of which was Ushijima’s suite which you had visited quite a few times but never as the kind of guest you had hoped to be. A frown came to your face as you dwelled on this thought as you waited after a text and a knock on the door.

Maybe after today you’d put some appropriate distance between you just for your mental health, you considered as you rocked on your heels idly. 

He was taking longer than usual to get to the door, you thought, only to hear the door whisk open and reveal someone who was in no way Ushijima, and yet…

“And who do we have here?”

There was now a much older gentleman standing before you, one that looked vaguely like Ushijima, but slightly scaled down and noticeably more approachable. Warm even. His smile was wide and reached his eyes, similar to Ushijima’s own smile, but more accessible.

Ushijima eventually appeared behind his father while you tried to piece two and two together to the realization that they were likely related.

“One of my friends, ___,” he said, with a smile, and your heart ached.

* * *

But not for long.

And for a reason far beyond what you’d anticipated.

It sounded almost lecherous if you said Takashi Utsui had taken an interest in you, occupying himself with a book in the corner while you tutored the son he’d come to briefly visit from overseas. You’d thought it odd that he had stopped Ushijima from canceling your meetup, peering with a sort of curiosity at you and him ever so often as you worked quietly together. You wondered if he had been gauging his son’s interest during that time, and when he finally decided his son hadn’t staked a claim (if he cared at all), deciding at that moment to proposition you with a night out.

It sounded even worse that you’d sensed the attraction the older man had to you barely twenty minutes into your review time, and had decided you were equally as interested. After all, you wondered just how much Ushijima had taken after his father, and you had missed being wanted.

You hadn’t been expecting humoring an older man for a date would turn out with you breathing heavily and soaking wet: from perspiration, from arousal, from tears of overstimulation from orgasms wrenched out of you by the end of the night.

You remembered briefly that Wakatoshi had told you superficially about his parents’ divorce on a late night snack run, and now all you could think was, _Holy shit, Ushijima’s mother had left this?_

Thick, veiny cock burrowed into you repeatedly, splitting you, splaying you, and if there was any sound you could focus on, it was the earthy grunt so close to your ear, timed with every thrust. 

The years had clearly treated Takashi well, because you were pleasantly surprised by how firm his body was now pressed against you, and his energy was no joke - in fact, he had already outlasted the other men you had been with and you were already starting to wonder if he was a better fuck than his beast of a son. 

When his angle shifted, and he went from fucking you horizontal to fucking you semi-upright, you _knew_ he had to be better.

Experienced hands played your clit like a violin, and neither your nipples nor the sensitive space behind your ears, nor the soft crook of your neck, were neglected as he continued to piston in and out of you.

But his persistent smile, friendly when you’d first met as the cute friend who hung out with his son, was now arrogant, deepening as he drew moans and mewls out of you. It was almost threatening - here you were, barely able to speak, caged in by your crush’s father, and already you knew your feelings would be hard to manage after this night.

How would you proceed?

When your back arched almost violently in your last orgasm of several, dark spots briefly dotting your vision before settling back into Takashi’s mature face, he held you tightly, waiting for you to settle before rubbing your thighs gently to start much-needed aftercare.

“You know… when my son told me someone had a crush on him I couldn’t imagine he’d be silly enough to rebuff someone as beautiful as you.”

His hands were still rubbing your thigh and you were now resting against him, still as a painting, and heart beating softly despite your slightly restless mind.

Your lips curled into a smile despite your mild exhaustion. Takashi was right. He _was_ silly. 

And just to prove how silly Wakatoshi was, you would go one step further: _if he’d put you in the friend zone, you’d put him in the step-parent zone._

_And you’d enjoy every second of it._


End file.
